


Begging

by RUIANY



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RUIANY/pseuds/RUIANY
Summary: If Jonathan saved that kids who were taken by Dracula. How their life became different comparing the TV.
Relationships: Dracula & Jonathan Harker
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Jonathan felt the cold, like being in an ice cave, submerged by cold snow. He raised his head hard, trying to breathe out of the ice in the illusion, but fell to the ground feebly. In the process of struggling, his hand grabbed the white sheet underneath him and awakened from the suffocating dream.

Jonathan arched up hard, curled up his body to resist the pain and fear caused by his cough.

"You woke up, I found you downstairs, sleeping on the floor." Jonathan's blue-green pupils reflected Dracula's calm face. No, it's not like that at all! You, absorb me, you are getting younger and younger and I am getting weaker. Jonathan wanted to speak, but bit his lip to stop himself. His eyes fell on Dracula's tall and strong figure. Dracula was holding a glass of ‘liquor’, and Jonathan could see his panic face reflected on it through the glass.

"You said you don't drink red wine." Jonathan stared at the glass of liquid.

"Wine (just don't drink wine)" Dracula put the glass on the table, put a hand under Jonathan's armpit, and pulled him from the floor and pressed him onto the chair.

The child’s sharp cry made Jonathan break free from his depression. Maybe he could not save the person who wrote ‘help me’ on his window, but at least, he had to figure this out. He couldn’t lose another of his kind. "There is a child here." Jonathan's tone was very firm.

"No, Jonny, no." Count Dracula's eyes were flawless.

Immediately after, Jonathan was involved in the whirlpool of writing his suicide note for himself. "What if I don't write?" Jonathan looked at Dracula who had left his seat.

"It's up to you." Dracula just picked up the bag where the child's cry was heard and walked up the steps. The cry of the child appeared again, and Jonathan could feel the despair in the cry of the child.

"There is a child here." Jonathan took a few steps up the stairs, his eyes fixed on the bag in Dracula's hand.

"There have never been children here." Dracula didn't give much expression.

Jonathan put one of his own hands on the dining table with strength, and took a deep breath to stop Dracula from leaving. 

He kept falling to the ground, stood up again, and fell again, his knees hit the ground, the viscous liquid penetrated through the black trousers, his fingers were rubbed through the wet and hard ground, and his head was raised level by level. 

As he climbed, he was so weak that he couldn't straighten his body, but he reached Dracula's feet at an astonishing speed, and weakly grasped the trousers of Dracula's trousers with one of his own hands.

"Jonny, there are no children here." Dracula placed his bag on the edge of the stairs and looked at Jonathan from top to bottom. The young man’s brown-black hair was wet with sweat and pressed tightly to his forehead. The white shirt had become wide because of his weight loss. 

It hung loosely on his shoulders, leaving only a strap hanging on his shoulders, which would be empty. The black trousers are fixed at the waist. "I beg you, count." Jonathan lowered his head, his forehead resting on the toe of Dracula's shoe.

"There is no free meal in world (there is no free lunch), Jonathan, so what are you going to give me in exchange?" Dracula knelt down, his forehead was about to touch Jonathan’s cheek, Jonathan could see His cold, emotionless eyes.

"Everything (anything)" raised his head, his eyes full of determination. He grabbed the railing of the escalator, straightened up swayingly, and tremblingly pulled down the straps on his shoulders with his fingers that had worn off a nail, and the trousers without support fell down, one by one along the neckline. 

Unbuttoning his shirt button and slipping his fingers on the shell-made buttons, Jonathan trembled, his teeth were cold, but he held the escalator railing with one hand, raised his head forward, and handed his lips to Germany. Gula's lips let her pale lips kiss the devil, like a sacrifice.

"Enough (do you think this is enough)?" Dracula kissed Jonathan heavily, put his arm around his thin waist, opened his mouth along the shirt with the other, and stroking his nipple, making Jonathan unnaturally Arched forward in an attempt to escape. Jonathan's trembling teeth bit his tongue, and Dracula sucked body fluid mixed with blood from his mouth.

Jonathan lowered his head, grabbed Dracula’s suit vest with one hand, shook his hands and untied Dracula’s belt awkwardly, tears fell from his cheeks, and his pale, dry skin drew salty and wet water, dripping through his broken lips. , Bring slight pain.

He held the swollen sex organs in his trousers with his sickly thin hands and lowered his head. He carefully sent his lips forward, opened his mouth wide, held the tip of his penis, and licked with his tongue in fear, down, and The ball that held one end of the penis spit out again, and returned to the elevated sexual organ. 

Jonathan's suppressed breathing and heat exhaled on Dracula's waist.

Dracula put his hand on Jonathan's hair, forcing him to swallow deeper. Physiological tears were in his eye sockets, and the discomfort brought by his throat made him want to vomit, but he had to swallow more obediently, serving the ‘devil’ who has not given any judgment.

live or death

Jonathan almost fainted by this suffocation. His consciousness gradually drifted away, making him unable to remember how long it took. The genitals that Dracula thrust forward made his mind dizzy. He needed more air, he thought . 

The swollen sex organ in his mouth was finally satisfied, and when the earl pulled it out, he sprayed body fluid on his mouth and cheeks, staining his black hair. He leaned weakly on the cold and hard stairs, bowed his head, and looked at the bag that the earl had placed in his arms.

He moved his hand hard to open the bag, and a pair of beautiful light blue eyes appeared in his sight, followed by a white cotton skirt, fair skin, and her delicate face. 

This is a child. 

The child broke out of the bag crying, put his head on his neck, reached into his open neckline, and cried, "Mom (mother)?"


	2. Chapter 2

She has a small white satin dress with two large bows with blue and white stripes at the end. Her eyes are very beautiful, and her emerald green pupils are as calm as a lake. Jonathan guessed that she was at most one year old and would not recognize people. Jonathan carefully picked up her forehead hair and tied up her somewhat unkempt golden brown hair.

Thank God, he was allowed to walk around in the manor again, of course this was more likely because his weak and weak body could no longer take him out of here. For the first time, Jonathan saw the servants in Dracula’s mouth. They had tense and lifeless faces and stiffly moved the clothes and other sundries needed by the child to his room, and told him that they would be delivered every day. Goat's milk came to his room five times to let him feed the children. Jonathan thanked them briefly, watching them carefully through his blue-green eyes. They are not like humans at all.

The clothes and things they sent were exquisite but a little old. They looked like centuries ago. Jonathan opened a few boxes and even found a vanity mirror and women's rouge inside. This may have been left by the owner of the manor or by Earl Dracula. 

Maybe the earl himself did not become a monster at that time, maybe there will be a wife and children? Jonathan speculated in his mind.

"Mom?" Jonathan gently picked up the girl, lest she start crying again. He hugged the girl to his chest so that he could relax his sore arms, "Hey, don't cry, okay?" He wasn't sure if the girl's cry would cause her disaster, she was not like himself, She should have a bright future. Although judging from her clothing, she should only be born into an ordinary farmer's family.

"N••O, N•••Y••E••S." The child stared at him with his big beautiful eyes and began to vaguely say words.

Jonathan sighed, he is not good at taking care of children, he can even say that he doesn't like it very much.

He put the child on his bed and cushioned her with a soft pillow, and took out a Bible to read from the compartment of the suitcase.

*-*-*-*-*

dinner time

Jonathan pulled out a new shirt from his suitcase, and worked hard to button up the suit and waistcoat to smooth out the wrinkles on his clothes. He intends to have a good talk with Count Dracula. One of the antique silver styles was opened with a sapphire rouge box engraved on the inside-we just met in the quagmire, Elizabeth to Vlad DePace Dracula.

Through the reflection in the glass window, Jonathan looked great, even though he secretly wiped some rouge on his cheek, he still looked pale. But at least it looks more respectable now, and Jonathan sighs in his heart.

Jonathan walked down the stairs and overlooked the icy hall from a height.

Count Dracula was sitting in the main seat, still holding a glass of red liquid in his hand, and a fixed-dish dinner and a good bottle of red wine were still placed on the long brown-black table.  
Jonathan pulled the chair away and sat down.

"I thought you would bring that kid over. The kid is not likable, right? They are always too noisy." Count Dracula's eyes seemed to be accompanied by a bit of mocking sarcasm, and Jonathan had no doubt that he was in the afternoon. I heard the child's noisy cry.

"I'm not good at taking care of children. But I like her. Where did you take him." Jonathan's tone was a bit difficult.

"She was placed on a torture rack in the village of Moorhore, fifty miles away, to be burned to death. It is said that her mother was a witch who killed the children in the entire village." Dracula put aside his hypocrisy With a smile, he sipped the'liquor' in the glass.

"Did she (is she a witch?)." Jonathan put down his fork.

"I don't know, Jonny, maybe? She is dead." Dracula drank his drink.

"Does she have a name?" Jonathan asked carefully.

"I think it probably doesn't. It doesn't make any sense for you to ask this question." Dracula leaned back on his chair, staring at Jonathan with a smile.

"I want to say, thank you very much, you let the servant provide children's items. That is very kind." Jonathan poured himself a glass of red wine and drank it.

"How dare you? This fake word don't deserve it (I think the word kind is not worthy to describe me, so hypocritical!)" Dracula furiously got up from his seat and strangled Jonathan's throat.

"I said the truth (I just told the truth)." Jonathan felt that his breathing was a little short, and less and less thin air could enter his throat, but he was not panicked, he had already tried what he was looking for s answer.

WHAT DRACULA AFRAID?

What is Dracula afraid of?

He is afraid of kindness, because he reported desperate views of the world. This is one of the driving forces of his survival. He is afraid and afraid of what he believes is wrong and hypocritical. For hundreds of years, he has killed countless people, lawyers, servants, and travelers. He has never seen in their blood that contradicts his own ideas. He has seen the ugliness of human nature, and everything he has seen confirms this. a little.  
But, it's time to open the windows for this old house.

Jonathan once wondered why he was still alive. After touching Dracula’s bottom line countless times, he searched the house, opened the boxes containing the living dead, and rescued the child. Who would leave such a big trouble? What? Or, in other words, who would try to save other lives when they were dying?

Yes, Dracula drew his blood and set a date for his death, but again and again tolerated his arrogance. Because Dracula is afraid, afraid of this ordinary lawyer, afraid of the kindness seen in his blood, the kindness that Dracula hates, and does not want to believe.

How to change an old house? Let it burn. The love of the elderly is like an old house on fire, out of control. No matter how Dracula uses his blood to maintain his youthful appearance, he still has an old, unwilling, stubborn heart.

Jonathan felt a little dizzy in his brain. His brain didn't take in enough oxygen to alert him. But he was extremely calm. He gently touched and held Dracula's cold hand that was holding his throat with his hand, raised his head with difficulty, and gently kissed Dracula's lips. "Do you want to give her a name? What about Elizabeth Hacker Tepes Dracula (Elizabeth Hacker Depeth Dracula, how about this name)?"

Dracula suddenly put away the anger on his face, and withdrew his hand from Jonathan's throat, his eyes suddenly became soft. "Whatever (whatever you want)?" He left hastily and entered a secret door that Jonathan had seen.

First

Jonathan laughed softly, although his throat was still aching. What are you thinking? vlad•depes•Dracula, what is your past?  
Jonathan picked up the napkin, wiped the corners of his mouth, drank the red wine in the glass, and walked back to his bedroom. He gently picked up Elizabeth, the child, and hummed a nursery rhyme. "Good night, Elizabeth."

A spark has appeared in the house, and it will set off a prairie fire.


	3. Chapter 3

"Good morning, Elizabeth." Jonathan picked up the girl in a light blue baby shirt with a white skirt and put her on her knees. "Do you want to hang out?"  
The child lying in his arms quietly stared at him with his grandmother's big green eyes, and a smile fell on Jonathan's lips. Thank God for bringing a life to his side, so that he will not go crazy in this cold and deserted manor with nowhere to escape.  
The light in the manor is not good. Of course, it is more likely that the man who designed the manor deliberately reduced the setting of the windows, making the entire manor difficult to be illuminated by the sun even in midsummer, let alone in the winter when the mountains are frozen. .  
RESERATA CARCEREM  
Endless prison  
THE PRISON WITH LOCKS  
Prison without locks  
The widower Petrovio. His last work. Jonathan stood at the top of the stairs and looked at the two oil paintings-Peter Rubio and his wife carefully. Legend has it that he died here, in the arms of his wife, extremely cold. A lamp was placed at the entrance of the stairs, and Petrubio's eyes were more real and profound in the flashing firelight.  
He is an artist. Jonathan thought with Elizabeth in his arms. Across the thick little cloak, the scorching heat on the child's body was transmitted to his chest, making him feel calm inside, and he was no longer alone. Just like he wouldn't be a lone artist like Petrovio hanging on the wall. They are always eager to be understood by people.  
Elizabeth was not afraid, on the contrary, she appeared interested, leaning on Jonathan, and her little white finger pointed at the other painting at the top of the stairs-Peter Rubio's wife, and said: "eye"  
Jonathan turned his head and looked at the painting on the wall. The woman in the painting has delicate hair ornaments on her head, her facial features are exquisite, she wears leaf-shaped earrings with pearls on her ears, and she wears a dress. She is very elegant, and it is no wonder that Petrovio is willing to build a castle to commemorate her, a castle that is said to have no drawings, to commemorate the sunlight he can never touch again.  
‘Isn’t the face of the lover the sunshine? This seemingly absurd idea hit Jonathan. He laid his cloak on the ground and flattened it, gently placed Elizabeth on it, and walked forward, carefully tracing the woman's face on the painting with his fingers. He labored to remove the portrait from the wall, set it upside down, lifted the wooden board behind, and took out the drawing inside, the drawing of the castle. The map that does not exist.  
This corridor is like a maze of doors and shadows. Many people have been lost in this tortuous corridor. Now, Jonathan is no longer one of them. He put the drawing in the inner pocket of his shirt, returned the drawing to its original position, and decorated everything.  
Picking up the candlestick again, he knew everything about the structure of the castle.  
Do you know that there is indeed a map that fully records the structure of this castle, Count Dracula? Jonathan asked in his heart. Before this he was invincible, after this, he will be invincible.  
Go up three floors and turn three turns to the left, the third door on the right in the corridor ahead. The heavy wooden door was opened, and the grayish-brown dust was diffused. Jonathan put Elizabeth in his arms and carefully covered the child's nose and mouth to prevent her from inhaling the dust.  
"Hello, Mr. Huck." A young woman suddenly emerged from a huge wooden box, with some tousled brown-gray hair covering her half of her face. "Please don't tell Count Dracula, please? He doesn't Knowing that I can open the door on the wooden box."  
"I won't." Jonathan looked at her carefully.  
"Where are you from? Are you Dracula's friend now?" the young woman asked, and after receiving Jonathan's answer, she did not stop. "What is England?"  
"That's my hometown, you speak English now?" Jonathan didn't rush forward as eagerly as if he found a companion. He stood at the door, keeping a distance from the woman. He still has a child in his arms, he can't do anything adventurous, and obviously, the ‘people’ who live in this castle behave strangely.  
"I don't know, I'm learning it now, it tastes good." The woman held the wooden box with one hand, her eyes flowed, and stared at the child in Jonathan's arms. "I'm hungry, I smell you, and you tell Count Dracula that I finished the last one, and I will finish it soon."  
Jonathan stepped back. He was very nervous. He saw the rat carcass in the glass cabinet next to the wooden box: "Dracula will not be happy, stay away from me."  
"I'm hungry!" The woman suddenly appeared right in front of him, showing her sharp teeth.  
Jonathan had only time to cage the child into his cloak, but he himself was tightly suppressed by the woman on the wall, sharp teeth pierced the soft flesh of his neck, blood flowed out, Jonathan's head began to dizzy, he tried hard. She wanted to push away the woman lying on her body, but it was useless.  
The woman supporting him suddenly disappeared from him, and Jonathan slid weakly from the wall, blood infiltrating his black robe. The child was shaken up and down, and began to cry: "Mom?" Jonathan put his arm around the child, gently hummed the ballad, and coaxed: "I am here, mother is here, don't cry, okay?"  
The child quickly stopped crying, burped a few times, and quietly shrank into his arms. Jonathan slowed down and looked down at the place where the loud noise was made. The woman who sucked his blood was nailed to her chest with wood, and was thrown on the ground like a debris. She was still crying before she died, Dracula said. With a domineering look, the anger in his eyes makes people tremble, his strong hands pinched the woman's neck: "How dare you touch him, this person belongs to me! How dare you hit his idea without my permission!"  
A slutty smile appeared at the corner of the dying woman's mouth: "You have never loved! You will never love!" She laughed loudly, mixed with hoarse gasps, and gradually weakened, weakened, until it disappeared.  
Jonathan turned his head and saw someone die in front of him for the first time. Even though ‘she’ may not be alone, he still feels sorrowful, even if he is temporarily safe.  
"Why did you kill her?" Jonathan looked up and looked at Dracula, who seemed to be casually patrolling the other two wooden boxes. His face was extremely pale. He stared at Jonathan carefully and muttered to himself. Said: "No, I can also love, everyone can feel it in their own past, it will not disappear."  
"Maybe it's because I first see if she will die. Don't look at me like that. You were a child, and you understand that feeling. Don't you ever take down a toy to see how it works?" La leaned down and squatted next to the dead woman. His face was still a bit hideous and distorted. With his pretending calm tone, it made people feel awkward and cold. "It's a pity that I will only enjoy three brides at a time. ."  
"Brides?" Jonathan asked.  
"Yes, bride, I think the word should be appropriate. You see, I try to breed offspring. If there is only one person, there will be a big problem." Dracula lowered his voice, stared at Jonathan, tried Observe his look so that he will be scared.  
But he was disappointed.  
Jonathan had a calm face and made a request to him: "Can you give me a hug for Elizabeth?" He walked into Dracula and hugged the girl into Dracula's arms.  
"So, you have three brides at the same time. So, what am I?" Jonathan put one hand on Dracula's shoulder. "If there is only one bride, will it bother you, Vlad?" Jonathan pressed Approaching Dracula, he made a hug gesture, half leaned against Dracula’s chest, raised his head and kissed his Adam’s apple, still cold. "Do you want to reproduce me? I would be happier if you only had one bride."  
Jonathan pulled Dracula's empty hand to his waist, "You have love, Vlad." He stepped his feet, and leaned his head on Dracula's cold neck, breathing hot air. "They should have more respect for Elizabeth, shouldn't they? You acquiesced in her name, she is also your child, both of us (child of both of us). "Jonathan looked up, trying to look on Dracula's face. After all, see if he will respond to himself," You say, they blood lack of flavor, what about my blood? You smell it too? What about my blood? kind?"  
"I will make them respect Elizabeth... and you. Do you want to change your surname? You should know what it means to be overwhelmed." Dracula lowered his head, and put his cold hand into Jonathan's shirt, making him hit a cold trembling.  
"D··a··d? M··om?" The child caught between them suddenly began to cry, shaking their tears on Dracula's gorgeous and expensive suit vest.  
"I think we should deal with the children first, and then deal with the housework, right?" Jonathan chuckled, satisfied to see Dracula's anger from the wet clothes. "It's getting dark, we might as well set up first. Elizabeth came down to have dinner again. "He boldly took Dracula’s hand and held it firmly, even under Dracula’s vigorous twitching.” My love, don’t be jealous anymore. We can have dinner at night. Discuss this issue in bed. "Even though he knows that Dracula just wants to get out and leave, Jonathan is willing to use words to'provoke' him.  
I am not a pawn on the chessboard and can be thrown away for victory at any time. Now, I am a chess player. With my name and life, I can overthrow the opponent in a good start.  
Pawn change, advance to the bottom square of chess, the smallest chess piece can also be promoted to the back, but it is still a chess piece.  
Let us re-manipulate the chess pieces. I am unwilling to make arrangements. Let me refocus on black and white, and let the black and white chess pieces jump and dance on the board, so that the killing is graceful and deadly.  
Are you ready, Vlad?  
I am waiting for you to start.


	4. Chapter 4

In the barren courtyard, half-person tall weeds clustered around the gravel and broken tiles in the courtyard. The cold winter was about to come to an end. The snow mixed with black dust and ash gradually melted, making the manor under the sun more and more cold.  
Jonathan looked down through the upper window of the manor tower. The manor’s atrium was very lively. A group of gypsies were working hard to move the wooden box with Dracula’s family crest onto the carriage. Dracula is finally about to act. He is very clear about the purpose of this relocation-Britain, in order to pursue the blood full of flavor.  
"We are going to England." A pair of arms wrapped around Jonathan's shoulders from behind, and heavy breath sprayed on the side of his neck.  
"That's not bad." Jonathan replied. He walked back to the bed. His movements caused the white liquid that Dracula had left in his body last night to flow down his thighs, and he clamped his legs in embarrassment.  
"Don't be shy, Jonny." Dracula took a white silk towel and placed it on Jonathan's calf. Incidentally, he lifted up Jonathan's nightdress with his other hand and let the towel gradually run along his leg. The line slid upwards, and finally stopped between his hips. Jonathan was pressed on the four-poster bed, and the itchy touch of silk rubbing his skin made him unconsciously want to bend his legs to avoid him. With his movements, more liquid flowed out and landed on the white towel.  
Dracula used his fingers to hook the silk fabric into Jonathan's body and slowly rotated it so that it could absorb more liquid. "Don't move, it will be well soon." Jonathan was uncomfortable with the forced thighs to be raised and opened. This is not the first time, but Dracula's malicious delay of time made his legs sore and tremble.  
"Okay." Dracula saw the anger on Jonathan's face, and quickly pulled out the handkerchief. The handkerchief rubbed against Jonathan's inner wall, forcing Jonathan to bit his lip, suppressing the scream and gasp that he was about to blurt out.  
Jonathan sat up from the bed with some shame and pushed Dracula away. "Where's Elizabeth? Haven't the servants sent her here?" He flattened his nightgown, picked up the wine bottle lying on the dressing table and poured himself a glass.  
"Stoke will bring her at eleven o'clock." Dracula was leaning on the bed, looking at Jonathan standing in the sun in fear. "Johnny, close the curtains, please. The room is too bright."  
Jonathan pretended not to realize the darkness of the room and closed the heavy curtains. "What stands in front of me is just a poor immortal monster who has lost his wife. He is so afraid of the sun." Jonathan sighed in his heart, for Dracula’s tragic past, he was originally a glorious prince, but he eventually fell into Bloodthirsty immortal devil.  
"You smell of sunshine, Jonny." Dracula pulled Jonathan back to the bed. "Do you want to go out with me at night?"  
"Good." Jonathan carefully figured out Dracula's mind and hesitated to give his own answer.

*——*——*——*

"If I knew you just wanted to bring me to the cold wind on the roof, I would definitely bring my cloak." Jonathan whispered, the cold wind blowing his hair, he was only wearing a white shirt , With a slightly thicker woolen vest.  
"Be patient, Jonny." Dracula took off his suit jacket and told Jonathan to put it on. He raised his head and looked at the stars. "The stars are as beautiful as the sun, aren't they?"  
"Yes," Jonathan followed Dracula's gaze, the clear night sky, beautiful twinkling stars hanging in the sky, one, two, three, there is no count.  
"Have you counted the stars? I used to do this over and over again, until I couldn't remember the huge number in my head." Dracula said suddenly, "That was a long time ago, probably, one A hundred years ago, I could not remember clearly."  
Jonathan looked at Dracula, who suddenly no longer looked like a bloodthirsty devil. "You'd better count the sun, because it's more convenient."  
"That is indeed much more convenient," Dracula said with a smile on the corner of his mouth, and then said lightly, "I will never see the sun anymore." I will never see the sun and my Elizabeth anymore, those who can be warm My things can no longer take care of me, I just leave them behind.  
"I can count it for you." Jonathan said, even if he regrets a little, don't make a promise to an immortal ‘person’ because you cannot bear its consequences.  
"Yes, of course you can." Dracula caged Jonathan into the jacket on the cage. "You can go back to the room first, and I will be back soon. It's too cold on it."  
He needs to be alone, Jonathan thought, his heart softened, but thinking about the undead who were sealed in a box and suffered from pain for eternity, he strengthened his heart. "Ok."  
Walking down the steps, Jonathan looked back at the rooftop by the moonlight. Dracula was lying quietly on the ground, with a faint moonlight shining on him, and there was light in his eyes.  
Jonathan continued to walk down, this time, he did not look back.


	5. Chapter 5

The strange servants of Dracula in the manor knocked on the goalkeeper Elizabeth to take care of them, and reminded Jonathan Dracula that he was going to have lunch with him by the way.  
Jonathan's heart was a little soft, as if it was floating.  
Dracula has love, Jonathan thought. He opened the rouge box that once belonged to Dracula's wife (Princess Elizabeth), and carefully wiped a bit on his lips. Dracula did not allow him to hold a mirror, so he could only apply it carefully according to the window.  
The fire will devour this old house, maybe this is the love of older people, and it's overwhelming, Jonathan thought. His heart was gradually softened by Dracula. Even though he knew that Dracula did a lot of evil, he believed that, like Princess Elizabeth, he might be able to preserve Dracula's kindness, guide Dracula, and be Dracula's conscience.  
He did not see the people Dracula brought back to the surrounding villages to absorb their blood. This is a good phenomenon. Maybe there is some strange Gypsy recipe that can make Dracula no longer crave blood.  
Jonathan thought, closing the rouge box and turning downstairs. He is familiar with every passage of the manor like the hostess of the manor.

*——*——*——*

"Do you want a little bit? Wouldn't it be a pity that you cherish a century-old wine but don't taste it yourself." Jonathan raised an eyebrow at Dracula, and by the way he opened the chair and sat down for himself.  
"I don't drink," the elder duke sat down opposite Jonathan and replied helplessly, "Well, a little bit."  
"I hope this is not the kind of false response that you pressed me on the bed last night and told me'It will be over soon'. Don't underestimate yourself. "Jonathan poured a full glass for Dracula," After all, when I fell asleep At that time, the sky was clear, and you asked me too much to help you draw the curtains."  
"My fault." Dracula stared at the red wine in his glass and drank it happily.  
"Don't be so anxious, I won't pour you more." Jonathan took a sip of the red wine in his glass.  
Jonathan gradually wiped out the food on the plate, and Dracula, who was sitting aside, unexpectedly and recklessly picked up the red wine bottle on the table, and kept pouring himself. "Hey, don't drink too much." Dracula's drinking speed surprised Jonathan.  
"Do you want to count the sun with me?" Dracula said suddenly, he still seemed calm, his eyes very serious.  
"Of course," Jonathan finished the meal and let the waiter take away the plate. "May I (can I)?." He asked again, stretching out his hand to Degu.  
A pair of bone-chilling hands supported Jonathan's palms, and Jonathan's hands were immediately held firmly. Dracula left the seat and pulled up Jonathan, forcing Jonathan to run quickly with him. "Boom boom." The vigorous exercise made Jonathan's heart beat quickly, and he was dragged by Dracula and walked through the endless corridors. He tried to recall the map of the manor in his mind and judge where he was going, the tower roof.  
Dracula vigorously pushed open the wooden door on the top of the manor's tower, and the sun immediately tilted, and Jonathan, who had been in the dim manor for a long time, felt dizzy. "Tell me what the sun is like." Dracula lay cautiously in a small shelter on the top of the tower and eagerly pushed Jonathan into the sun. "Tell me what she is like."  
Jonathan lowered his head, Dracula's eyes were full of childlike desire and urgency, "She is red, very beautiful, exudes warmth, and loves everyone equally." Jonathan considered the words. He felt that his lunch was surging in his stomach, and his stomach acid was rushing to his throat. I can't spend my whole life in a place that is always full of darkness. You see, I now feel dizzy and nauseous when I look at the sun. To survive, I slept with a bloodthirsty monster and sacrificed my soul, my dirty soul.  
"Come here." Dracula shouted suddenly, holding his arms in his arms when Jonathan walked towards him. He hugged Jonathan tightly, his nose flapping against Jonathan's head, "You smell so good, Elizabeth, you are so warm, don't leave me." He kissed Jonathan's half-length hair.  
Jonathan shook Dracula's hand, his heart cooled and he began to fall coldly. "She is dead, Vlad, she won't come back again." Jonathan was a little untenable.  
"No, she didn't." Dracula's eyes suddenly turned dark, "Stop!" he suddenly yelled, letting go of the hand holding Jonathan, and then, fixed his hands on Jonathan's head. Enter, staring at Jonathan fiercely.  
"No, I won't stop, stop, Vlad, she's dead." Jonathan stared into Dracula's eyes blankly, tears falling from his face unconsciously.  
"It's impossible! How dare you!" Dracula clamped Jonathan in his arms, his sharp teeth pierced the skin of Jonathan's neck artery, and blood poured down from the wound.  
"Will you put me in the box? Please don't do that, I beg you." Jonathan hung his head feebly, his voice gradually weakening, and throat hemoptysis. He had opened the boxes in the basement, and the undead were stuffed into the small space in a twisted posture, and their bones creaked when they crawled out of the box. He didn't want to resist anymore, his thoughts gradually drifted away and his body became numb.  
"There's never been a fire in an old house, Jonny." Jonathan closed his eyes, his blood was constantly draining. "If you can still go, I will put you in the box. Most of them are dead, you can pray that you are the lucky one." Dracula fixed his head with both hands and turned to the right. After spinning, he heard a crisp sound, his eyes were out of focus and plunged into darkness.  
He knew that Dracula could see his memory through the blood, but he would not have a longer life, he would die soon, humiliated. He is the devil's whore, the lowest, and he cannot go to heaven.  
He died.  
Jonathan only felt as if he had a hand reaching into his head and messing him up. He could only feel a sharp pain, which seemed to come from deep in the bone marrow. He wanted to ask, but his hands and feet could only tremble. Sliding on the ground, knocking his head for bleeding, twitching on the ground.  
The darkness in front of him suddenly disappeared, and Jonathan felt the sun.  
I don't want to be put in a box.  
I want to leave here.  
I want to die.  
Jonathan pushed his knees to the ground, trying to stay away from Dracula in fear.  
"Wow, Jonny, most people are not so fast. You are really unusual." Dracula stood in the shade from a distance, and Jonathan could hear the mockery and teasing in his mouth, like a cat teasing a general A dead mouse, it must play enough before it can swallow its prey.  
"This has changed everything. By staying, you can be my most beautiful bride, Jonny." Dracula walked in.  
The bride locked in a box? He would spend hundreds of years there, in a small wooden box, devouring those mice. Of course, it is more likely to be killed with wooden nails for fun like the dead bride.  
Why would I expect a cold-blooded devil to give myself love, the dead bride was right, Count Dracula has no love, he does not understand love. Even if there is, this love belongs only to his dead princess. And Jonathan Hack can't get even a bit from the middle.  
He is prey, food, plaything, nothing more.  
Jonathan tried to stand up, his kneecap hurting like being put in a stove, like someone branding his whole body with red iron tongs. He raised his head hard and looked at the muddy river flowing along the tower.  
"You are just like me, Jonny." Dracula said, and Jonathan turned to look at him. He is neatly dressed and personable, and his shirt has been dyed red with blood, he has also become a monster.  
"No, I'm not the same as you." Jonathan leaned back and fell from the tower. The cold river water filled his mouth and nose, making him uncomfortable, and he habitually raised his head to breathe, only to realize that he didn't need it at all. He no longer needs to breathe. There was only the sound of rushing water in his ears, and he could not hear his heartbeat. There will be no more.  
This is the price of falling in love with Count Dracula.  
He is not Vlad, he is not the prince who will rush for his princess, he is not human. He is Count Dracula.  
The Vlad in his own mouth has never appeared, because Vlad has long since disappeared. The rest is nothing but an illusion created by Count Dracula, a game, a game of life.  
Jonathan just felt cold all over, but his bone marrow was burning. In the end, it fell into darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

The icy water slapped on Jonathan's body. The biting cold made him shiver. He crouched on his back and stood up tremblingly on the rocks on the shore.  
It was pitch black all around, very quiet, except for the clatter of some leaves. The sea breeze blew on his wet clothes, and the dripping water from his forehead blurred Jonathan's vision.  
Where I am?  
Where am I?  
The soles of his feet were marked with blood on the beach by sharp rocks and shells, but Jonathan walked forward blankly. Get out of here, he thought.  
He staggers, keeps falling to the ground due to pain, gets up again and again, and moves on.  
Jonathan was tired from sand and gravel to bare mud to soft grass, but he dared not stop. The slain bride, the undead locked in a wooden box, and Earl Dracula. Everything forced him to flee.

*——*——*——*

The sun rose again. The blazing sun shone on Jonathan's body and dried his wet shirt. After walking in the wasteland for a few days, he was very thin, and the wind blew his empty shirt and hit him on the back.  
Jonathan clearly knew that he was not normal, and he squeezed the air into the lungs with a big mouth, simulating breathing with difficulty. His head is lowered, and his body is curved like the branches of an old tree. The sun stings on his skin, and he can't see clearly under the sun.  
He stood on the top of the mountain and looked down. A small village caught his eyes.  
Go forward, forward.  
The sun dried his lips, and Jonathan continued to crawl forward. The village is getting closer and closer, with earthy yellow walls and a surging flow of people.  
When he fell, he rubbed the ground and moved forward, tears falling from Jonathan's eyes, and he sobbed silently, and finally sank into the darkness again.

*——*——*——*

"Jonathan, it may be strange to say that, but I still want to ask, did you have sex with Count Dracula?"  
Jonathan stood in front of the small bed blankly, and turned around astonished by the nun's words. The large white pajamas were wrapped around him, empty.  
"Why are you asking that?" Jonathan carefully sat back on the wooden chair and stared at the amazing nun Agatha.  
"Obviously you have contracted a disease, which is also a way to spread the disease." The nun opened the stack of records written by Jonathan on the table.  
"I...I...no, I don't." Jonathan buried his head in his hands. "Yes, yes, that happened, me and Dracula." Jonathan looked up and turned his eyes away. Dare to look directly at Agatha.  
"So can we talk about what you wrote? The first thing you wake up after being sent to the monastery is to ask for paper and pen." Sister Agatha put her hand on the stack of paper. "Some content is hidden inside, and I would like to listen to your careful recollection and narration."  
"That's okay." Jonathan was glad that she was not struggling with the disease, but he still felt very ashamed. The picture in front of him gradually turned from the present to the past. It was a freezing winter day, and the snowflakes kept falling. He put on a thick cloak and still felt bitterly cold...

*——*——*——*

"Jonny, my blue-eyed Jonny, how could I leave you." Mina in blue and white nun clothes approached Jonathan, her hand fell on Jonathan’s face, they were so close that Jonathan could even Hearing her heartbeat, he recognized his deformed body again.  
"Mina, you should leave me." Jonathan looked at Mina's eyes seriously. He couldn't imagine his fiancée would hear himself confessing his improper relationship with Dracula. He and Mina should not be together, he is not worthy of the attention of this brave and steadfast woman.  
"Jonny, you are worth it••" A bat suddenly rushed into Mina's face through the open window, her hair was loose and blood was dripping from her cheek.  
"He's coming!!" Jonathan began to tremble, his back leaning against the wall, eyes twinkling.  
Outside the window, hundreds of bats were spinning around the monastery, making a sharp cry. The sky was already dark, and the darkness was like a layer of black twilight enveloped the monastery.  
Mother Agatha hurriedly left the room.

"Mina, kill me." Jonathan put the blood on Mina's cheek into his mouth and licked it. His body could have made him have a strong desire for blood. The fingers stuck in his mouth made him feel uncomfortable and salivated. Since he lowered his mouth, he wanted to vomit, but he could only swallow his saliva helplessly. "Let me be relieved, I beg you." Tears dripped from Jonathan's eyes unconsciously.  
"No, I can't do it." The woman in blue just pushed Jonathan away, escaped the door, and started calling for help.  
Fear, what she sees is fear, what she sees as his fiancee is fear. He has become a monster completely, no one will try to save him, Jonathan closed his eyes, Mina's beautiful blonde hair seems to be dangling in front of him. Goodbye, Mina. He picked up the wooden thorn on the ground and pierced it deeply into his heart.  
Goodbye, Vlad.  
I hope you really exist.  
I hope death will give me peace.


	7. Chapter 7

"My bride." Dracula's naked body is very strong, with blood stains on the black wolf skin.  
"I guess you are here for him." Sister Agatha said, her eyes flashing with obsession and determination.  
"Bees can always find nectar."  
"Honey is always needed to arrange traps," said Sister Agatha, standing in front of the iron gate, her chance of winning.  
"I don't think this is a trap."  
"If you can see that it is a trap, then it is not a clever trap. Vampires cannot enter any residence without an invitation. Why do you need an invitation? You have lived for hundreds of years but can't even enter a monastery? "Sister Agatha asked, she opened the gate of the monastery, but Dracula did not dare to step in.  
Dracula was afraid of death.  
He snorted, jumped up, and disappeared into the sight of the nuns.

Most rooms in the monastery were not equipped with stoves, and the rooms were dark and cold.  
A corpse in white pajamas was lying on the icy ground, his hands gripped a wooden thorn - it had penetrated deeply into his chest. His face was pale, his body was stiff, without any vitality.  
"Blue-eyed Johnny. Suicide is useless. Don't you think those living dead have tried this method? This method is correct, but it must be someone else to intervene." Dracula clung to his clothes. On the outer wall of the monastery, "I am willing to try, would you let me do it?"  
Dracula's speech was warm and deep, full of bewitching. Freedom, this is now an unattainable luxury.  
Jonathan's eyes opened suddenly, as if his body was awakened, and his soul obeyed Dracula. He couldn't help himself, just as he thought he had written down the story of Dracula's Manor, his mind was so clear when he wrote it. But when Sister Agatha opened it, she could only see the ‘must comply with Count Dracula’s requirements’ and ‘Dracula is my master’ which had been copied thousands of times.  
His soul was imprisoned by Dracula, and he could never live beyond.  
"No. You will kill everyone." Jonathan said, "This is the temple of God. No one will invite you. You can't kill anyone tonight. You threaten me not to me."  
"Oh, Jonny, you are so naive. The weakest one will always invite me in." Dracula laughed, "I don't have to come in to kill people. Do you remember our'child'? "Dracula put a cloth bag on the edge of the window.  
"Mom." The child's immature cry came from it, crying and begging to leave this dark place, crying for his mother.  
Elizabeth. The child who was renamed by Jonathan, but she was not the Princess Elizabeth, she became a pawn that could be discarded, a tool used to blackmail Jonathan.  
"Jonny, you don't want her to fall. This is the third floor, I think it's quite high." Dracula said, putting one of his hands on the cloth bag. "I think you are a kind person."  
This is the same bag, the same child, and the same bargaining chip. This was the origin of his shameful relationship with Dracula, and that humiliating service pushed him to the cliff step by step.  
"No, I can't." Jonathan struggled to stand up from the ground. He was close to the window sill, and the child's face was against the side of the bag. Jonathan could even trace her features. "I beg you to let Elizabeth go. As a pity for your dead princess."  
"Jonny, you never know what sinister people can do. So I refuse. I didn't intend to kill them, but they were bold." Dracula said, holding the handle of the cloth bag in his hand and gradually raising it. High, let go. "It's really a shame that you lost your chance."  
Jonathan rushed forward, got through the small window, and stuck out his upper body, not enough, not enough. He jumped down. The wind caused by his quick movements scattered the manuscript papers spread on the table, and they fluttered into the monastery pavilion-‘Dracula’s orders must be followed’  
His fingertips touched the cloth bag that was still exuding warmth. He held the bag tightly in his arms. This old monastery was built so high that they would fall directly into the monastery. Jonathan knew that Elizabeth would die even then, which was too high. He opened the cloth bag and let the crying child hold the wooden thorn still stuck in his chest.  
"It won't hurt very much, it will end soon." He said softly to Elizabeth, who was lying in his arms. She obviously didn't understand what was going on. She was nestled in her mother's arms. On the contrary, the feeling of weightlessness is very interesting. Jonathan's tears fell on her cheeks.  
This will be fast.  
It doesn't hurt at all.  
Jonathan prayed in his heart.  
"No!" Jonathan didn't know if it was his own voice.  
They fell in the courtyard. Unscathed. Elizabeth's blonde hair was fluffy on her shoulders, and Jonathan stretched out her hand on her back, "Father?" Jonathan lay on his back in the convent. He endured the shock, but it was not as painful as he thought. His spine is pressed against a cold body, no, he is being surrounded by it, one cold hand is firmly holding his waist, and the other is holding the wood stained with Jonathan’s blood. thorn.  
He felt so clearly the fear of the person who was close to his body, the fear of Dracula, the rapid breathing and trembling body.  
Dracula entered the uninvited place.  
What is waiting for him? Death is still painful torture. Does Dracula know the truth of this legend? Do vampires have to accept the invitation?  
They were silent, and Jonathan allowed Dracula to ring him, letting the breath of fear he had never felt in Dracula spray on his neck. It should take a long time, of course, maybe just a while. The nuns who prayed in the church did not observe the sudden incident in the courtyard.  
"I think that the legends may not be all correct." Dracula leaned to Jonathan's ear, his voice low but with a humorous tone, "I think before marriage, the bride's arms and arms are obviously a bit slutty. I think you are Christian."  
Jonathan still had some panic in his heart, he held Elizabeth to his chest. "Let's spare the nuns." Since the legend is false, naturally Dracula can't stop Dracula's killing.  
"This is not an equal deal." The person behind stood up, turned around, and looked down at Jonathan.  
"Please don't do this." Jonathan's knees were on the cold ground, his head was on Dracula's knees, and his hands were on Dracula's trousers. He raised his head and begged: "I will not leave again, I promise. I will be your best beloved bride, and I can do whatever you ask. Please, let them go, let Mina go ."  
Dracula squatted down and pressed his finger on Jonathan’s red lips, "This is not a condition, you can only listen to me, Jonny. Now, I’m going to do something, if you stay here obediently, I It will be very happy. You can continue to keep this child."  
Elizabeth started crying in Jonathan's arms, Jonathan could only cautiously coax her, and watched Dracula enter the church.  
"The legend is not necessarily accurate, ladies." Far away, Jonathan heard what Dracula said as he entered the church.


	8. Chapter 8

Dracula walked into the church, his heart was still full of fear of death, but the legend was confirmed to be false, which made him feel at ease in the monastery rare. He was satisfied to see the nuns fleeing around before he did it himself, including the Sister Agatha and Mina of course. He suddenly felt bored, these screams, these were just humble lives, he didn't desire blood so much, and the right amount of blood could make him immortal.  
He looked at the abbot, the somewhat fat nun: "How about we make a deal?"

At the same time, Sister Agatha and Mina are studying ways to deal with Dracula in her studio.  
"How can those sacrament breads stop him. How does this work?" Mina asked, "Who on earth invited Dracula!"  
"I don't know. Those vampire legends are unreasonable, but they are proven to be true for some reason." Agatha flipped through her notes, "He can't enter other people's homes without being invited, why not. The sun will burn him to death. Why? He is afraid of the cross, but he is not a believer. For some reason, these facts are the same. There is one thing that Dracula fears most. To destroy him, we must find it!"  
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  
Dong dong dong  
No one opened the door.  
The door was opened.  
"Because I don't need an invitation, the legends are all false, I am not afraid of anything." Dracula, wearing a black cloak, walked in. He kept moving forward, stepping on the sacrament bread.  
Mina took a deep breath, nothing happened.  
"For the sake of family harmony, I am not going to kill you. So I hope you will cooperate, Miss Mina Murray, where is the little mirror?" Dracula said.  
Mina rummaged around her body and didn't find it. She looked at Dracula in horror. He stretched his hands to Dracula, and placed a delicate mirror on the palm of his hand. It was Sister Agatha, and the mirror was on her.  
Dracula took away the mirror.  
he left.  
Mina Murray started rushing to close the wooden door, and started sobbing quietly.

"We should leave." A black figure approached Jonathan. Jonathan carefully looked at Dracula and observed whether he was stained with blood. He knew well that even if there was no blood, it didn’t mean that no one was caught. Kill. There was a hustle and bustle in the church first, but now it has fallen into dead silence, and Jonathan dare not think about the worst.  
"I like this mirror very much." Dracula handed Jonathan a small mirror that he held in his palm. "I'll help you remove the photo."  
Jonathan stared at Dracula, his hand trembling constantly, he did not dare to take the small mirror-he had put his fiancée in it when he came to Trishnia (where Dracula is located) A photo of Na, when he left England. "You killed Mina."  
"Yes, to a certain extent, you won't see her again." A kiss fell on Jonathan's eyes, and Dracula hugged Jonathan, letting him hunch and cry in his arms. "But I allow you to see her one last time."  
Dracula turned Jonathan around, and a woman in a blue and white nun's robe was standing at the window, and she was crying. Behind her stood Sister Agatha, and the nuns who had taken care of him whom Jonathan could not name.  
"No more." Dracula forced the small mirror into Jonathan's palm, "Remember to put my photo in."

The sky gradually became clearer, and the red sun leaped on the horizon.  
"Earl Dracula will kill more people. He will go to England. We should send a letter to Scotland Yard." Mina Murray sighed as they looked at where they left. "The legends are all fake. Nothing can make him fear and destroy this bloodthirsty devil."  
Mother Agatha walked to her side.  
"No, I have discovered Dracula's most fatal weakness, that is not a legend." Sister Agatha said suddenly.  
"What's that?" Mina asked.  
"Maybe it's love, maybe it's worry, I don't know. But I think one thing is for sure. This has caused him to fall from the lonely high cliff. He is no longer a bloodthirsty demon." Agatha said , Dazzling red light shone on the top of the monastery.  
"I don't think he has love, he will be found and killed sooner or later."  
"No, he has. That's the most terrible place. He fell into the mortal world, just like every ordinary person. He lost, he was defeated, and he could no longer lift the sickle to kill innocent people at will. Thank you. God" Sister Agatha began to pray. .  
"If God exists, he won't let him enter the monastery and take Jonny away, but should punish him."  
"I think he has been punished. This is God's arrangement and the greatest irony. People rely on love to kill those things that make people fear."

London, England  
A small manor located on the outskirts of the country is decorated very warmly. There are a few tables and chairs on the small terrace on the second floor. The sun is shining, and the warmth is spreading on the man sitting on the terrace. He is a little thin, but the spirit Very good, turning the pages of the book under the sunshine of Hee He.  
"Hey, Vlad, the servant in the garden is watching." A figure suddenly appeared behind him, the man of the manor. A cold head suddenly rested on his shoulder.  
"You are so warm, Jonathan," said the man of the manor.  
The similar conversation that happened once made Jonathan's body stiff, and the man resting on him quickly realized this. "My fault, my bride." Jonathan shook back and clasped Dracula's hand.  
"So now, do you want to count the sun with me? My dear princess." The hot and humid lips covered Jonathan's earlobe, he couldn't help but shrink back, and fell into Dracula's arms.  
"I don't think you just want me to count the sun." Jonathan said, the sun shining on his beautiful blue eyes.  
"I also think it's a pity that we only have one sun. It makes counting the sun so fast. After that, of course we have to do something to kill the afternoon."  
The sun shines on them, so warm.  
If this story must be summarized, it must be the story of an old house on fire and an arsonist who stayed in the fire without fear. The blazing fire is as warm as the sun.

*1 Begging (the name of the article) The story in the article is from Jonathan begging Dracula to leave the child/Jonathan begging Dracula to let him die (after jumping off the cliff)/Jonathan begging Dracula not to kill Elizabeth ( (Monastery section) It seems that Jonathan has been in a weak position, but in fact the situation has been reversed little by little, and the two sides eventually exchanged initiative.  
*2 Dracula's change of Jonathan's name (Jonny-Jonathan), I always think that although Jonny is a nickname, the tone of the TV series always has a feeling of teasing "plaything". So in the end, Jonny-Jonathan's name changed, and the two of them became equal in this relationship.  
*3 Counting the sun is the aforementioned stem (?)


	9. Chapter 9

Warming: Old couples play with their own fun. You can also try to be a priest AU short story alone, 3000 words, once finished.  
It was pitch black in the old chapel, and Jonathan sent away the last believer who came to confession, and sat in the confession pavilion somewhat tired.  
He was an ordinary pastor and was transferred to this small church by the church. As for the reason, it was because the past pastors died one after another. It was even reported that there were demons here. The priest was killed only to destroy the faith of the believers and the Holy See. Rumors. Jonathan didn't believe this very much. Since the surrounding countries began to war with Turkey, there have been constant wars here. Dead people are just common here, let alone a few priests who have no power to bind chickens.  
However, this rumor was circumstantial, even across regions. As an interesting thing people talked about, it was passed to the ears of a certain archbishop as the theme of the salon. In order to quell these rumors, they appointed the young Twenty-something Jonathan Ha Go to Trishnia. There is no reason for him. He is young and strong in faith (at least it seems), and as a priest raised and raised in the church, he has no family support and is most suitable to be sent to this remote ravine.  
People are enriched by the actions of the Holy See, and will soon forget this ordinary priest and turn to new interesting things. Only Jonathan was left, staying in this remote parish.  
"Father, I want to repent."  
"Say what you want to confess and God will bless you."  
"Every day, I just want to sip the blood of my beloved person so that he will never be separated from me." The voice from the confession booth was low and gloomy, "This is a disease, I guess it is, God will bless me Huh, priest?"  
The sun was shaking and setting down the horizon, and the cold began to sink into the bones. "I believe he will shelter you, sir." Jonathan paused and said.  
"You can call me Dracula, Priest Jonathan."  
"Dracula... sir, I think maybe doctors can help me with this kind of illness." Jonathan felt the word'Dracula' turn on his tongue. He seemed to have heard the word somewhere." Maybe I can recommend a doctor to you-Mr. Holmes."  
"I don't think humans can cure my illness. This is a curse, maybe from God, maybe from the devil."  
"Mr. Dracula?" The door of the confession pavilion on Jonathan's side was opened, and the dust was sprinkled on his body, his wet lips pressed against his neck, and he licked his arteries.  
"You should have heard my name, Dracula... Count, killed the three priests before you." The man in the scarlet-lined cloak put his hand on Jonathan's chest and unbuttoned the priest's robe. Button, "Why are you wearing a black robe, it represents mourning and sadness, for whom are you sad, Jonathan?"  
Dracula’s hand reached into Jonathan’s robe, moved over Jonathan’s collarbone, and circled Jonathan’s nipple downwards. His cold fingers made Jonathan tremble with freezing, and his smooth nails were trimmed across his nipple and let it. Congestion and swelling. "Please stop, sir. This is the abode of God," he pleaded.  
"Tell me, Jonathan, did the church tell you that Trishnia had never been illuminated by the Holy Light when the church appointed you here? The Crusade has failed." Jonathan put his hands on Count Dracula’s chest and pressed hard. With a push, he leaned forward, trying to get rid of the earl's restraint. This was in vain. Instead, Count Dracula smoothly grabbed his wrist and raised it up, as if throwing his nipples into the lips of the abusive man. The perpetrator gently rubbed his nipple with his teeth, and the bumps between his lips and teeth caused the blood from the broken nipple to be drawn into the man's mouth.  
"British blood is always so full of taste (favor)." The man pressing on Jonathan commented, his cold hand slid against his chest, peeled off Jonathan's black robe, unbuttoned his shirt, and squeezed vigorously. The soft white flesh of his waist. The people under him are not wearing panties. Without any hindrance, he continued downwards, his fingers stuck into the acupuncture hole, no lubrication was needed, and Dracula's fingers were eagerly held there, wet and hot.  
"You are not as holy as you think." Dracula stunned, "Who has played with you before me? How long ago, was it the believer who had just left? I heard that he was at odds with his wife. Or before you preach? Did that guy strip you off your pants, fuck you until you can’t stand up, and shoot all your semen in, and you stand in the church with his semen lasciviously? Believers preached. You said when they knew, would they rush to press you on the stage and fuck you as a bitch."  
"No, it's not." Jonathan explained cryingly, and let out an exclamation when Dracula's fingers rubbed the sensitive spots in his body, "I am not a slut." Dracula inserted two more fingers. , Deeply inserted. When his fingertips touched a cold thing, Dracula used his fingertips enough, grabbed the metallic end, and quickly pulled it out.  
"No, it's too soon." A silver cross inlaid with small white gems that had been warmed by the water was pulled out, wet. The moment the cross was taken out, Jonathan pleaded and shot.  
"You're really not an honest bitch, Jonathan. Before me, who fucked you?" Dracula was a little sullen, he casually hung the dripping cross on Jonathan's neck and directly put his penis He thrust into Jonathan's body vigorously. "who is it?"  
Jonathan is facing Dracula and being pressed in the narrow confession pavilion. One of his legs is lifted by Dracula to allow men to enter smoothly. His hands are clamped by Dracula, and he leans against the wall to breathe hard. . Dracula's genitals kept grazing his sensitive spots, pushing in and out, he was like a small sailboat sailing in a storm, ups and downs in the sea of desire. "Vlad Cepela, my fiance." he cried.  
His fiancé did not find an excuse to cancel their marriage contract even when he was transferred to this remote diocese far from England. On the contrary, his fiancé accompanied him to Trishnia like those rare good men. They are getting married.  
"Wow, fucking with your fiancé before marriage is not what a good bitch should do, Jonny." Count Dracula said in Jonathan's ear, "You said, if he also found out that I was fucking you in the church , Would you excuse your loss of virginity before marriage to cancel your marriage contract?” Dracula did not stop his actions, he kept pushing upwards, and Jonathan’s standing instability and leaning backwards caused by struggling with fear made him The penis went deeper. "Don't be so passionate, Jonathan."  
"No, don't do this, I beg you." Jonathan said intermittently. He clamped his legs in fear and found that the assailant's penis was harder, and tears fell from his eyes.  
"Shhh, relax, dear. As long as you promise to let me get rid of itching every other day, it's not your cause, but your body is too waved." Dracula turned Jonathan over and let He is facing himself. The change in posture allowed Dracula to go deeper. Both of Jonathan's legs rested on his shoulders, sliding down under the influence of gravity, reaching the depths of Jonathan's back acupuncture, rubbing against the prostate.  
"Yes. Be lighter." Jonathan clasped Dracula's shoulder tightly and cried out maliciously at Dracula. He just wanted to stop, it was all because of his body, not because of him, he thought. "Fuck me, please."  
Dracula pulled out the whole penis, pushed it in vigorously, and foamed all the lewd fluid that Jonathan secreted, and finally threw it dozens of times, shooting all the semen into Jonathan's hot and humid hole. "Thank you, Mrs. Zepela in the future." He pulled from Jonathan's convulsive cunt and kissed him.  
He watched with satisfaction as the people under him were sitting on the dirty ground. The black robe had been torn to the ground, the shirt was torn, the nipples were red and swollen, the body was covered with hickeys, and the inner thighs were pinched blue. The fucked priest was limp on the ground, spreading his legs feebly, tears constantly.  
The abuser left.  
Jonathan gasped weakly on the ground. How did things turn out like this? He clearly did nothing wrong. Why did it happen?  
Suddenly footsteps came from outside the confession pavilion, "Jonathan, sorry for being too late today. I talked to Sir Golden of the manor next door about the roof of the manor that should be repaired."  
Jonathan stood up with his legs shaking, and hurriedly picked up his black robe from the ground and put it on. He could hardly stand, buttoning his collar button in fear.  
The door of the confession booth was opened.  
"What happened? You lustful bitch." Grand Duke Vlad Zepela, the young earl, saw his fiance standing trembling in the confession pavilion, his black priest's robe stained with white semen. , Red eyes, hickeys left on his neck. He ripped off Jonathan's robe angrily.  
The fragile black robe was torn apart, the buttons flew out, and Grand Duke Vlad Zepela clearly saw the fornication of his fiance. The semen was dripping from between Jonathan's legs, ticking to the ground. "I don't think our wedding needs to go on anymore," the young grand prince said calmly.  
"No, please don't be like this, Vlad." The fucked priest wanted to step forward, but fell into the arms of the young grand prince. "Don't be like this, I beg you." The priest gave him a sacrifice. On the lips and tongue.  
"You don't deserve to be my wife." The young prince pressed him under his body and fucked straight in. "But I still lack a mistress who is in estrus. You can try to hand in your own application letter."  
The door of the confession booth closed again.

Note*: The prototype of Count Dracula, Grand Duke Vlad Cepela. It is assumed that Vlad Zepela is the identity of Dracula before he became a vampire.


	10. The Chinese vision

乔纳森感觉到了寒冷，就像置身在冰窟中，被冰冷的雪水淹没。他努力的抬起自己的头，试图在幻觉中浮出冰面呼吸，但却无力的倒在地上。他的手在挣扎过程中抓住了垫在身下的白色被单，从窒息的梦境中惊醒。  
乔纳森努力的弓起身子，将自己的身体蜷缩起好抵抗自己咳嗽所产生的痛苦与恐惧。  
“你醒了，我在楼下找到了你，睡在地板上。”乔纳森蓝绿色的瞳孔中映射出德古拉冷静的面容。不，根本不是这样的！你，absorb（吸收）了我，你变得日益年轻而我却日渐虚弱。乔纳森想要说出口，却又紧咬嘴唇制止了自己。他的眼神落在德古拉高大健壮的身形上，德古拉正拿着一杯‘酒液’，乔纳森可以透过玻璃杯看见自己倒映在上面的慌张面容。  
“你说你不喝红酒。”乔纳森盯着那杯液体。  
“wine（只是不喝红酒）”德古拉将杯子搁在桌上，将一只手放在乔纳森腋下，将他从地板上拉起，压到椅子上。  
孩子尖锐的哭声让乔纳森从低落的情绪中挣脱，也许他拯救不了那个在他窗户上写下‘help me’的人，但是至少，他要搞清楚这个，他不能再失去一个同类了。“这里有一个孩子。”乔纳森的语气十分坚定。  
“不，乔尼，没有。”德古拉伯爵的眼神毫无破绽。  
紧接着乔纳森就被卷入了要为自己写下自己遗书的漩涡中。“如果我不写呢？”乔纳森望向已经离开座位的德古拉。  
“随你。”德古拉只是捡起那个传出孩子哭声的袋子，走上台阶。孩子的哭声又出现了，乔纳森可以感受到孩子哭声中的绝望。  
“这里有一个孩子。”乔纳森向楼梯走了几步，眼睛牢牢地盯着德古拉手中的袋子。  
“这里从没有孩子。”德古拉并没给予多少表情。  
乔纳森将自己的一只手撑在餐桌上借力，沉吸一口气向前想要阻止德古拉离开。他不停的跌倒在地上，重新站起，又跌倒，他的膝盖磕着地上，粘稠的液体通过黑色西裤向外渗透，手指用力磨过潮湿坚硬的地面，一级一级的仰头攀爬着，他虚弱到直不起身子，但却以一种惊人的速度到了德古拉脚边，用自己的一只手无力的抓住德古拉西裤裤脚。  
“乔尼，这里没有任何孩子。”德古拉将自己手中的袋子放在楼梯边上，自上而下的审视乔纳森。年轻人的棕黑色头发被虚汗打湿紧紧的贴在额际，白色的衬衫因为消瘦已经变得宽大，松松垮垮的挂在他的肩上，只剩下一根背带挂在肩上，将空荡荡黑色的西裤固定在腰垮。“我祈求您，伯爵。”乔纳森低头，他的额头抵在德古拉的鞋尖。  
“there is no free meal in world（天下可没有免费的午餐），乔纳森，所以你要给我什么来交换呢？”德古拉蹲下身，他的额头快要贴上乔纳森的脸颊，乔纳森可以看到他冰冷毫无情感的眼睛。  
“everything（任何东西）”抬起头，眼神充满坚毅。他拽住扶梯的栏杆，晃晃悠悠地直起身，颤抖着用自己已经磨掉一片指甲的手指将自己肩上的背带拉下，没了支撑的西裤顺势下滑，顺着脖子领口一颗一颗解开自己的衬衣纽扣，手指在贝壳制的纽扣上打滑，乔纳森身形发颤，牙齿都打着冷战，却一手撑着扶梯栏杆，向前仰起自己的头，将自己的唇递到德古拉的唇边，让自己苍白的嘴唇吻上这个魔鬼，就像一场献祭。  
“enough（你觉得这样足够了吗）？”德古拉重重的吻上乔纳森，一手搂住他细瘦的腰，一手顺着衬衫开口，大力抚弄他的乳尖，让乔纳森不自然的向前弓腰企图逃脱。乔纳森发颤的牙齿咬破了自己的舌头，而德古拉从他的口腔中汲取混杂着血液的津液。  
乔纳森低头，一手拉住德古拉的西装马甲，抖着手笨拙地解开德古拉的腰带，大串眼泪从他的脸颊上落下，苍白干燥的皮肤汲取咸湿的水分，滴过破皮的唇，带来细微的疼痛。  
他病态细瘦的手握住了西裤中肿胀的性器，低头，他小心翼翼地将自己嘴唇送上前，张大嘴，含住阴茎的首端，怀着恐惧用舌头舔舐，向下，含住阴茎一端的球又吐出，重新含回高扬的性器。乔纳森抑制的呼吸声和热气呼在德古拉的腰间。  
德古拉将自己的一直手压在自己乔纳森发上，逼迫他更深的吞入。生理性的眼泪含在他的眼眶，喉头带来的不适感让他想要呕吐，却不得不顺从的吞入更多，用嘴服务还没有给出任何评判的‘魔王’。  
live or death 生或死  
乔纳森几乎被这种窒息感折磨的晕倒，意识逐渐游离，让他记不清到底过了多久，德古拉向前抽插的性器让他头脑发晕，他需要更多的空气，他想。口中肿胀的性器总算满足，在伯爵抽出之际将津液喷洒在他的口腔和脸颊，弄脏他黑色的发丝。他无力的倚靠在冰冷坚硬的楼梯上，低头，看向伯爵放置在他怀里的袋子。  
他艰难地移动自己的手打开袋子，一双漂亮的浅蓝色眼睛出现在他的视线中，随后是白色棉麻裙，白皙的皮肤，和她的精致面容。这是一个孩子。孩子哭泣着挣脱出袋子，将自己的脑袋搁在他的颈窝，一手伸进他开放的领口，哭叫道：“mom（妈妈）？”

白色的小绸缎裙，裙尾束着两个蓝白间色条纹的大蝴蝶结，她的眼睛很漂亮，祖母绿色的眼瞳像湖水一样平静。乔纳森猜测她最多满了周岁，并不会认人。乔纳森小心的为她挑开额际的发丝，把她有些蓬乱的金棕色头发给扎了起来。  
感谢上帝，他被重新允许在庄园内走动，当然这更可能是因为他疲软虚弱的身体不可能再将他带离这里。头一回，乔纳森见到了德古拉口中的仆人，他们紧绷着毫无生气的脸，动作僵硬的把孩子所需的衣物和其他杂物送到他的房间，并告诉他，每天都会送五次羊奶到他的房间，让他哺育孩子。乔纳森简短地道了谢，透过自己蓝绿色的眼睛仔细观察他们。他们也一点都不像人类。  
他们送来的衣物和东西精致但有些老旧，看上去都是几个世纪前的款式，乔纳森打开了几个送过来的箱子，甚至在里面发现了梳妆镜和女人用的胭脂。这也许是庄园主人或者是德古拉伯爵以前遗留下的。那时候说不定伯爵本人都没有变成怪物呢，也许还会有一个妻子和孩子？乔纳森在心中揣测。  
“妈妈？”乔纳森轻轻地将女孩抱起，以免她又开始哭闹。他将女孩搂在自己的胸前，这样可以放松一下他酸软的手臂，“嘿，别哭，好吗？”他不确定女孩的哭声会不会为她引来灾祸，她不像自己，她应当拥有一个美好的未来。虽然从她的服饰来看，她应该只出生于一个普通的农户家庭。  
“N••O，N•••Y••E••S。”孩子用自己漂亮的大眼睛盯着他，开始含糊地说着单词。  
乔纳森叹了口气，他并不擅长照顾孩子，甚至可以说不怎么喜欢。  
他将孩子放在自己的床上用一个柔软的小枕头帮她垫着，从行李箱的夹层中取出一本圣经阅读。

*-*-*-*-*  
晚餐时间  
乔纳森从自己的衣箱中翻出了一件新衬衣，并努力的扣上西装马甲的扣子，平整衣服上的褶皱。他打算和德古拉伯爵好好地谈谈。其中一个银质的古旧款式镶嵌着蓝宝石胭脂盒打开着，盒子内侧刻着——我们只是在泥沼中相遇，伊丽莎白致弗拉德•德佩思•德古拉。  
透过玻璃窗的倒影，乔纳森看起来好极了，尽管他偷偷地揩了一些胭脂在自己的脸颊上，他看起来依然很苍白。但至少现在看起来体面多了，乔纳森在心中叹息。  
乔纳森走下楼梯，从高处俯瞰这个冰冷的大厅。  
德古拉伯爵正坐在主位，手中依然是拿着一杯红色的液体，棕黑色的长桌子上仍旧摆放着固定菜式的晚餐和一瓶不错的红酒。  
乔纳森拉开椅子坐了下来。  
“我以为你会带那个孩子过来，孩子并不讨人喜欢不是吗，他们总是太过吵闹。”德古拉伯爵的眼神好像带上了一点嘲笑的讥讽，乔纳森毫不怀疑他在下午时听到了孩子吵闹的哭喊。  
“我并不擅长照顾孩子。但我喜欢她。你从哪里带走他的。”乔纳森的语气有些艰涩。  
“离这里五十英里的摩尔霍雷村，她被放在火刑架上准备烧死。据说，她的母亲是一个女巫，害死了整个村庄的孩子。”德古拉收起了嘴边虚伪的笑意，他啜饮着杯中的‘酒液’。  
“Did she（她是女巫吗？）。”乔纳森放下自己手中的餐叉。  
“我不知道，乔尼，也许？她已经死了。”德古拉饮尽酒液。  
“她有名字吗？”乔纳森小心翼翼地问道。  
“我想大概没有了。你问这个问题没有任何意义。”德古拉头后仰，倚靠在椅背上，似笑非笑地盯着乔纳森。  
“我想说，非常感谢，你让仆人提供孩子的物品。that is very kind (这非常的善良)。”乔纳森为自己倒了一杯红酒，饮尽。  
“How dare you?This fake word don’t deserve it（我认为善良这个词不配用来形容我，如此虚伪！）”德古拉勃然大怒，倏地从座位上站起，用手扼住乔纳森的喉咙。  
“I said the truth（我只是说了真话而已）。”乔纳森感到自己的呼吸有些急促，越来越少的稀薄空气可以进去他的喉管，但他不慌张，他已经试探到了自己所寻找的答案。   
WHAT DRACULA AFRAID?  
德古拉畏惧着什么？  
他畏惧善意，因为他报着对这个世界的绝望看法，这就是他生存的驱动力之一，他畏惧，畏惧自己坚信的是错误的、虚伪的。几百年来，他杀了无数的人，律师，仆人，过客，他从未在他们的血液中看到与自己观念相悖的，他看到了人性的丑恶，他见过的所有一切都印证了这一点。  
但，是时候，为这个老房子打开窗户了。  
乔纳森曾疑惑，为什么他仍然存活着，在无数次触碰了德古拉的底线后，他搜寻这个屋子，打开那些装着活死人的箱子，救回那个孩子，什么人会留下这样一个大麻烦呢？又或者说，什么人会在自己濒临死亡的时刻企图拯救其他的生命呢？  
是的，德古拉汲取他的鲜血，为他订好死期，却又一次次的容忍他的僭越。因为德古拉畏惧，畏惧这个普通的律师，畏惧从他鲜血中看到的善意，德古拉所厌弃的，不愿意相信的善意。  
如何让一个老房子改头换面？让它烧起来。老年人的爱情就如同老房子着火，一发不可收拾。无论德古拉怎样用鲜血保持自己年轻的外形，他仍旧拥有一颗年迈的，不愿意改变的，固执的心。  
乔纳森感觉自己的脑子有些晕乎乎的，他的大脑没有摄入足够的氧气而向他报警。但他却冷静极了，他轻轻的用自己 手触碰、握住德古拉冰冷的正扼住他喉咙的手，艰难的仰起头，轻轻地吻上德古拉的唇。”你想要给她命名吗？What about Elizabeth•hacker•tepes•dracula（伊丽莎白•哈克•德佩思•德古拉，这个名字怎么样）？“  
德古拉突然收起了自己面上的愤怒，收回扼在乔纳森喉咙上的手，他眼神突然杂加了柔软。“whatever（随你便）？“他急匆匆地离开了，进了乔纳森见过的一道暗门。  
First 第一次  
乔纳森轻轻笑了起来，尽管他的喉咙仍然有些发痛。你到底在想什么呢？vlad•depes•Dracula（弗拉德•德佩思•德古拉），你的过去是怎样的呢？  
乔纳森拿起餐巾，擦了擦自己的嘴角，饮尽杯子中的红酒，走回了自己的寝室。他轻轻抱起伊丽莎白，那个孩子，哼起儿歌。“晚安，伊丽莎白。“  
房子里已经出现了一粒火星，它将掀起燎原之势。

“早安，伊丽莎白。”乔纳森抱起穿着浅蓝色娃娃衫套着白色罩裙的女孩，将她放在膝盖上。“你想要出去逛逛吗？”  
躺在他怀中的孩子安静的用自己祖母绿色的大眼睛盯着他，一抹笑挂上乔纳森的唇边。感谢上帝，将一个生命带到他的身边，让他不至于在这个冰冷的无路可逃的废旧庄园中疯狂。  
庄园中的光线并不好，当然更可能是设计庄园的人故意减少了窗户的设置，让整个庄园即使是在盛夏都难以被阳光照的明朗，更罔论是在群山冰封的冬季了。  
RESERATA CARCEREM  
无尽监狱  
THE PRISON WITH LOCKS  
没有锁的监狱  
鳏夫彼得鲁维奥。他最后的一件作品。乔纳森立在楼梯口，仔细凝神地看着那两幅油画——彼得鲁维奥和他的妻子。传说他死在这里，死在他妻子的臂弯中，冰冷无比的臂弯。一盏灯烛被放置在楼梯口，闪烁的火光中彼得鲁维奥的眼神更加真实，富有深意。  
他是个艺术家。乔纳森怀抱着伊丽莎白想道。隔着厚实的小斗篷，孩子身上的灼热的热度传送到他的胸前，让他内心熨帖，非常平静，他不再孤单一人了。就像他不会像挂在墙上的彼得鲁维奥一样，一个孤独的艺术家。他们总渴望被人们所理解。  
伊丽莎白并不恐惧，相反，她显得饶有兴致，倚在乔纳森的身上，白净的小手指着楼梯口的另一幅画——彼得鲁维奥的妻子，念道：“eye（眼睛）”  
乔纳森转过头，看着挂在墙上的画。画中的女人头上别着精致的发饰，五官大气精致，耳朵上挂着成叶子形缀着珍珠的耳环，着身上礼服。她非常的优雅，也难怪彼得鲁维奥愿意建筑一座城堡来纪念她，建筑一座据说没有任何图纸的城堡，纪念他永远无法再触及的阳光。  
‘爱人的面庞，不正是阳光吗？’这个看似荒谬的想法击中了乔纳森，他将自己的披风搁在地上铺平，把伊丽莎白轻轻地安置在上面，自己走上前，用手指仔细描摹着油画上女人的面容。他吃力地从墙上取下画像，倒搁，掀开后面的木板，取出了里面的图纸，这座城堡的图纸。那不存在的地图。  
这个楼道就像是门和阴影构成的迷宫，很多人都曾迷失在这曲折往复的长廊中。而现在，乔纳森不再是其中的一个了。他将图纸放在自己的衬衣内袋，将画回归原位，粉饰好一切。  
重新拿起烛台，他已对这座城堡的结构无所不知。  
你知道这确实有一张地图完整的记下了这个城堡的结构吗，德古拉伯爵？乔纳森在心中问道。在这之前他无往不败，在这之后，他将无往不胜。  
向上走三层楼，在向左拐三个弯，正前方走廊右边的第三扇门。厚重的木门被打开，灰褐色的尘烟弥散，乔纳森把伊丽莎白搂在自己的怀中，小心捂住孩子的口鼻，不让她吸入灰尘。  
“你好，哈克先生。”一个巨大的木箱子里突然钻出一个年轻女人，有些蓬乱的棕灰色头发遮住了她小半的脸庞，“请你不要告诉德古拉伯爵好吗？他不知道我可以打开木箱上的门。”  
“我不会的。”乔纳森仔细审视着她。  
“你从哪里来？你现在是德古拉的朋友了吗？”，年轻的女人问道，得到了乔纳森的回答后她并没有停下，“什么是英格兰？”  
“那是我的家乡，你现在说的就是英语？“乔纳森并没有急切地像找到同伴一样鲁莽的冲上前去，他站在门口，和女人保持着一段距离。他怀中还有着一个孩子，他不能做任何冒险的事，而很显然，住在这个城堡里的‘人’都行为诡异。  
“我不知道，我现学的，那尝起来味道很好。“女人一只手撑着木箱，眼上目光流转，紧紧盯着乔纳森怀中的孩子。”我饿了，我闻到你了，你告诉德古拉伯爵，我吃完了上一个，我很快就吃完了。“  
乔纳森后退了几步，他很紧张，他看到木箱旁边连着的玻璃柜里的老鼠尸体：“德古拉不会高兴的，离我远一点。“  
“我饿了！“女人突然出现在了他的正前方，露出了她尖利的牙齿。  
乔纳森只来得及将孩子笼进自己的斗篷，但他自己已经被女人紧紧的压制在墙上，尖利的牙齿戳破了他颈部的软肉，鲜血流出，乔纳森的头开始发晕，他用力的想要推开伏在自己身上的女人，却是无用功。  
撑着他身子的女人突然从他的面前消失，乔纳森无力的从墙上滑下，鲜血渗透他黑色的袍子。孩子受到了上下的震动了，开始哭叫起来：“妈妈？“乔纳森用一只手搂住孩子，轻轻哼起歌谣，哄道：”我在这里，妈妈在这里，别哭好吗？“  
孩子很快停止了哭泣，打了几个哭嗝，安静的缩在他的怀里。乔纳森缓了缓，低头看向发出巨响的地方，那个吸取他鲜血的女人被用木头钉在胸口，正像杂物一样被扔在地上，临死前仍在哀叫，德古拉一副盛气凌人的样子，眼中的怒火让人战栗，有力的双手掐着女人的脖子：“你怎么敢碰他，这个人属于我！在没有我允许的情况下，你怎么敢打他的主意！“  
濒死的女人嘴角却露出了一个放荡的笑：“你没有爱过！你永远也不会爱！“她笑得很大声，夹杂着嘶哑的喘息声，逐渐弱下去，弱下去，直至消失。  
乔纳森偏过头，第一次目睹有人死在他的面前，即使也许‘她’并不是一个人，但他仍不免产生兔死狐悲之感，即使他现在暂时安全。  
“你为什么杀死她。“乔纳森抬头，看着似乎正漫不经心地巡视在另外两个木箱旁边的德古拉伯爵，他的脸及其苍白，仔细的盯着乔纳森看，并且喃喃自语道：”不，我也能爱，每个人在自己的过去都可以感受到，它不会消失。“  
“可能是因为我先看看她会不会死，别这样看着我，你曾也是个小孩，你明白那种感觉。难道你就不曾拆掉玩具，看他的运作原理吗？“德古拉俯下身，蹲在死掉的女子旁边，他的脸仍然有些狰狞扭曲，配上他故作冷静的语气让人别扭又遍体生寒，”这很可惜，我一次只会享用三个新娘。“  
“Brides（新娘）？“乔纳森问道。  
“对，新娘，我想这个词应该是合适的。你瞧，我尝试着去繁衍后代，如果只有一个人，会有很大的问题。“德古拉压低自己的声音，盯着乔纳森，试图去观察他的神色，好让他恐惧。  
但他失望了。  
乔纳森面容平静，向他提出了一个要求：“可以帮我抱一下伊丽莎白吗？”他走进德古拉，将女孩抱到德古拉怀中。  
“所以，你有了三个新娘，在同时。那么，我是什么呢？”乔纳森一手覆在德古拉的肩膀上，”如果只有一个新娘，会困扰你吗，弗拉德？“乔纳森压近德古拉，做出一个拥抱的姿势，半靠在德古拉胸口，抬头亲吻他的喉结，依旧很冰冷。”你想要reproduce（繁殖）我吗？我会更高兴，如果你只有一个新娘。“  
乔纳森将德古拉空着的一只手拉到自己的腰际，“你有爱，弗拉德。“他垫脚，将脑袋伏在德古拉冰冷的颈窝，呼吸间，喷出热气。”他们该对伊丽莎白更加的尊敬，不是吗？你默许了她的姓名，她也是你的孩子，both of us (我们两个人的孩子)。“乔纳森仰头，想要在德古拉脸上看个究竟，看他是否会回应自己，”你说，they blood lack of flavor(这里人的血缺少味道)，那我的血呢？You smell it too（你闻到了吗）？我的血味道怎么样？“  
“我会让他们尊敬伊丽莎白···和你。你想要改变你的姓氏？你应该懂得覆水难收的意思。“德古拉低下头，冰冷的手伸进乔纳森的衬衣，让他打了一个冷颤。  
“D··a··d？M··om?“夹在他们之间的孩子突然开始哭泣，将眼泪抖落在德古拉华丽昂贵的西装马甲上。  
“我想我们应该先应付孩子，然后再处理家事，不是吗？“乔纳森轻笑，满意的看到德古拉因为被弄湿的衣服愠怒的样子，”天快要黑了，我们不妨先安置好伊丽莎白再下来共进晚餐。“他大胆的牵住德古拉的手，牢牢攥住，即使在德古拉大力的抽动下也不松手，”吾爱，别再嫉妒了，我们可以晚上在床上好好讨论这个问题。“即使知道德古拉只想脱身离去，但乔纳森乐意用语言去‘惹怒’他。  
我不是棋盘中的棋子，可以被随时为了胜利抛却，现在，我是执棋人，用姓名，用生命，换一局可以推翻对手的好开局。  
兵生变，前进到象棋的最底格，一个最微小的棋子，也可升为后，但依旧是棋子。  
让我们重新操纵棋子，我不甘于为安排，让我重执黑白，让黑白棋子在棋盘上跳跃，舞蹈，让杀伐优美，致命。  
你准备好了吗，弗拉德？  
我在等待你开局。

荒芜的庭院，快半人高的杂草簇拥着院子里的碎石烂瓦，寒冬已经快要走到尽头，掺着黑色尘灰的积雪逐渐融化，使阳光下的庄园愈发寒冷。  
乔纳森透过庄园塔楼上的窗向下望去，庄园中庭很热闹，一群吉普赛人正卖力地将刻着德古拉的家族徽章的木箱子搬到马车上去。德古拉终于要有所动作了，他很清楚这场搬迁的目的——英国，为了追寻那些充满风味的血液。  
“我们将要去英国。”一双手臂从后面揽住乔纳森的肩膀，粗重的呼吸喷在他的颈侧。  
“这不错。“乔纳森回道，他走回床边，他的动作使得昨夜德古拉遗存在他体内的白色液体顺着大腿流下，他有些尴尬的夹紧了腿。  
“别害羞，乔尼。“德古拉拿了一条白色丝绸巾子，将巾子抵在乔纳森的小腿上，顺带用另一只手撩起乔纳森的睡裙，让巾子逐渐沿着腿部线条向上滑去，最终停在他的臀缝。乔纳森被压在四柱床上，丝绸摩擦皮肤瘙痒的触觉让他不自觉的想要曲腿躲开。伴随着他的动作，更多的液体流了出来，落在白色的巾子上。  
德古拉顺势用手指勾着将丝绸织物带了一截进去了乔纳森的体内，慢慢旋转，让它可以吸收更多的液体。“别动，很快就好。“大腿被迫抬高张开的姿势让乔纳森很不舒服，这不是第一次，但德古拉恶意拖延时间的做法让他的腿酸痛的发颤。  
“好了。“德古拉瞧见了乔纳森脸上的恼怒，很快的抽出手巾，手巾摩擦着碰过乔纳森的内壁，迫使乔纳森咬住嘴唇，压抑住自己快要脱口而出的尖叫和喘息。  
乔纳森有些羞耻的从床上坐起，推开了德古拉。“伊丽莎白呢？佣人们还没把她送过来吗？“他平整自己的睡裙，拿起搁在梳妆台上的红酒瓶为自己倒了一杯。  
“斯托克会在十一点的时候把她带来。“德古拉正倚靠在床上，畏惧地看着站在阳光下的乔纳森。”乔尼，拉上窗帘，拜托了。房间里太亮了“  
乔纳森假装意识不到房间的昏暗，拉上了厚重的窗帘。“站在我面前的只是一个可怜的失去了妻子的永生怪物，他是如此的畏惧阳光。“乔纳森在心中叹息，为德古拉的悲惨过去，他原本是光耀的王子，最终仍然堕落成了嗜血的永生魔鬼。  
“你闻起来有阳光的味道，乔尼。“德古拉将乔纳森拉回床上，”你想要晚上和我一起出去吗？“  
“好。“乔纳森小心地揣摩着德古拉的心思，犹豫的给出了自己的回答。

*——*——*——*

“如果我知道你只是想要带我来阴冷的楼顶吹冷风，我一定会带上我的斗篷的。“乔纳森小声抱怨道，寒冷的风吹起他的头发，他只穿着一件白衬衫，外面套着一件稍微厚一点的呢子马甲。  
“耐心一点，乔尼。”德古拉将自己的西装外套脱下指使乔纳森穿上，他抬起头看向星空，“星星就像太阳一样美，不是吗？”  
“是的，”乔纳森顺着德古拉的眼光望去，晴朗的夜空，漂亮闪烁的星子挂在天上，一颗，两颗，三颗，根本数不尽。  
“你数过星星吗？我过去常常干这样的事，一遍又一遍，直至自己记不起脑子中的那个庞大的数字。”德古拉突然说道，“那是很久之前了，大概是，一百年前，我已经记不清了。”  
乔纳森看向德古拉，他突然表现得不再像一个嗜血的魔鬼。“你最好数太阳，因为那更加方便。”  
“那的确要方便很多，”德古拉嘴角浮起一个笑容，又接着轻描淡写地说道，“我再也不能见到太阳了。”我再也见不到太阳和我的伊丽莎白了，那些可以温暖我的东西都无法再眷顾于我，我是抛下的。  
“我可以帮你数它。”乔纳森出口，随即便有些后悔，不要对一个永生的‘人‘作出承诺，因为你无法承担它的后果。  
“是的，你当然可以。”德古拉把乔纳森笼了笼身上的外套，“你可以先回房间，我会很快回来的。上面太冷了。”  
他需要独处，乔纳森想道，他的心有些软下来，但想道那些被封在箱子里永生永世都受着痛苦折磨的不死人，他又坚定了自己的内心。“好的。”  
走下台阶，借着月光，乔纳森回头看向天台。德古拉正安静地躺在地上，淡淡月光洒在他身上，他的眼睛中有着光。  
乔纳森继续向下走，这一次，他没有回头。

庄园里德古拉那些神出鬼没的怪异仆人敲门将伊丽莎白带走照顾，顺带提醒了乔纳森德古拉将要和他一起用午餐。  
乔纳森的心有些软绵绵的，像飘起来似得。  
德古拉有爱，乔纳森想道 。他打开那个曾经属于德古拉妻子（伊丽莎白王妃）的胭脂盒，小心的抹了一点在自己的唇上，德古拉不允许他持有镜子，所以他只能照着窗户仔细的涂抹。  
大火会吞噬这套老房子的，也许这就是年长人的爱情，一发而不可收拾，乔纳森想。他的心逐渐被德古拉软化，即使他知道德古拉作恶多端，但他相信，他也许可以和伊丽莎白王妃一样，保存着德古拉的善良，引导德古拉，作德古拉的良心。  
他没有看见德古拉带回周边村庄的人吸取他们的鲜血，这是个好现象，也许有什么奇异的吉普赛秘方可以让德古拉不再渴求鲜血。  
乔纳森想着，合上胭脂盒，转身下楼。他就像庄园的女主人一样熟悉这个庄园的每一条通道。

*——*——*——*

“你想要来一点吗？珍藏着百年美酒自己却不尝一口，不会很可惜吗。“乔纳森向德古拉挑眉，顺带为自己拉开了椅子坐下。  
“我不喝酒，“年长的公爵在乔纳森对面坐下，无奈地回道，”好吧，一点点。“  
“希望这不是你昨晚把我压在床上告诉我‘很快就会结束’的那种虚假回应，不要低估你自己，“乔纳森为德古拉倒了满满一杯，”毕竟当我睡下的时候，天都放明了，你还过分的要求我帮你拉窗帘。“  
“My fault（我的错）。“德古拉盯着自己杯中的红酒，爽快地一饮而尽。  
“别这么心急，我不会再给你多倒的。“乔纳森抿了一口自己杯中的红酒。  
乔纳森逐渐消灭餐盘中的食物，而坐在一旁的德古拉出乎意料的鲁莽地捞过桌上的红酒瓶，不停的给自己倒酒。“嘿，别喝太多了。“德古拉的饮酒速 度 让乔纳森有些惊奇。  
“你想要和我去数太阳吗？“德古拉突然开口，他看起似乎依旧很冷静，眼神非常严肃。  
“当然可以，“乔纳森结束用餐，任由侍者收走餐盘，”May I（我可以吗）？.”他又反问，向德古拉伸出了自己的手。  
一双彻骨寒冷的手托住了乔纳森的手心，乔纳森的手随即被用力握住，德古拉离开座位，拉起乔纳森，迫使乔纳森跟他快速地跑起来。“砰砰砰。“剧烈运动使得乔纳森的心脏快速的跳动，他被德古拉拉着，穿行在无尽的走廊中。他努力的回忆自己脑子里的庄园地图，判断他的要去的地方，塔楼天台。  
德古拉大力的推开庄园塔楼顶层的木门，阳光随即倾斜，长时间待在昏暗庄园里的乔纳森感觉到眩晕。“告诉我，太阳到底是怎么样的。”德古拉小心的躺在塔楼顶层一块小的荫蔽处，急切地把乔纳森推到阳光下，“告诉我，她是怎样的。”  
乔纳森低头，德古拉的眼中充满了孩童般的渴望与迫切，“她是红色的，非常漂亮，散发着温暖，平等的爱着每一个人。”乔纳森斟酌着用词。他感觉到自己午饭正在自己胃液里涌动，胃酸正冲着自己的喉咙涌上。我不能让自己的一生都花费在一个永远充满了黑暗的地方，你看，我现在看太阳都感觉到眩晕和恶心。我为了生存竟然和一个嗜血的怪物睡在一起，献祭自己的灵魂，我肮脏的灵魂。  
“过来吧。“德古拉突然喊道，在乔纳森向他走来的时候，一把将在搂在怀中。他紧紧抱着乔纳森，鼻翼在乔纳森脑袋边扇动，”你真好闻，伊丽莎白，你真的好温暖，不要离开我。“他吻在乔纳森半长的发丝上。  
乔纳森握着德古拉的手发颤，他的心冷下来，开始冰冷的下坠。“她已经死了，弗拉德，她不会再回来了。“乔纳森有些站不住。  
“不，她没有。“德古拉的眼神突然变得阴翳，”你快停止！“他突然大声呵斥道，放开了握着乔纳森的那只手，紧接着，把双手固定在乔纳森的头颅上，狠狠地盯着乔纳森。  
“不，我不会停下的，停下吧，弗拉德，她死了。“乔纳森怔怔的盯着德古拉的眼睛，眼泪无意识的从他脸上落下。  
“这不可能！你怎么敢！“德古拉钳制着乔纳森，把他控制在怀里，尖锐的牙齿刺破了乔纳森颈部动脉的皮肤，鲜血从伤处涌下。  
”你会把我放进箱子吗？请不要这样，我求你了。“乔纳森无力地垂着头，他的声音逐渐变弱，喉咙咯血。他打开过那些放在地下室里的盒子，那些不死人被用扭曲的姿势塞进狭小的空间，他们从盒中爬出时骨头吱吱作响。他不再想反抗了，他的思绪渐渐飘开，身体变得麻木。  
“There's never been a fire in an old house(从来没有什么老房子着火),乔尼。“乔纳森合上了眼，他的鲜血在不断地流失。”如果你还能走的话，我会把你放进箱子的。大多数人都死了，你可以祈祷你是幸运的那一个。“德古拉用双手固定住他的脑袋，用力向右一旋，他听到了一声脆响，双眼失焦，陷入了黑暗中。  
他知道德古拉可以通过鲜血看到自己的记忆，但，不会再有更长的生命，他很快就会死去 ，羞辱的死去。他是这个恶魔的娼妇，是最低贱的人，他上不了天堂的。  
他死去了。  
乔纳森只感觉好像有一只手伸入自己的脑袋把他搅成一团乱，他只能感觉到剧痛，这种痛就好像来自骨髓深处，他想要拜托，双手双脚却只能打颤，在地面上滑动，把脑袋磕出血，在地上抽动。  
眼前的黑暗突然消散，乔纳森感到了阳光。  
我不想被放进盒子里。  
我要离开这里。  
我要死亡。  
乔纳森用膝盖顶在地上，试图怕的离德古拉远一点。  
“哇噢，乔尼，一般人都不会这么快。你真的很不一般。“德古拉远远地站在荫蔽处，乔纳森可以听出他口中的嘲讽和调笑，就像猫儿戏弄将死的老鼠，它一定要玩够了才会将猎物吞吃入腹。  
“这改变了一切，留下来，你可以成为我最美的新娘，乔尼。“德古拉走进。  
被关在箱子里的新娘吗？他会在那里度过漫长的几百年，在一个狭小的木箱里，吞吃那些老鼠。当然，更可能的是像那个死去的新娘一样因为好玩而被用木钉杀死。  
我为什么会期待一个冷血的魔鬼给予自己爱呢，那个死去的新娘说得对，德古拉伯爵没有爱，他不懂爱。即使有，这个爱也只属于他死去的王妃。而 乔纳森•哈克不可能从中分到一丝一毫。  
他是猎物，是食物，是玩物，仅此而已。  
乔纳森努力向上站起，他的膝盖骨就像被放进火炉里一样痛，就像有人用烧红的铁钳在他全身烙下烙印。他努力抬起头，看着了沿着塔楼流过的浑浊 河流。  
“你就和我一样，乔尼。“德古拉开口，乔纳森转头看向他。他衣冠整齐，风度翩翩，而自己的衬衣已经被鲜血染红，他也成为了一个怪物。  
“不，我和你一点也不一样。“乔纳森向后仰去，从塔楼落下。冰冷的河水灌满他的口鼻，让他难受，他习惯性的仰头呼吸，才发现自己根本就不需要了。他不再需要呼吸。耳边只剩下湍急的水声，他听不见自己的心跳。不会再有了。  
这就是爱上德古拉伯爵的代价。  
他不是弗拉德，他不是那个会为了自己王妃而奔溃的王子，他不是人类。他是德古拉伯爵。  
自己口中的弗拉德从来就没有出现过，因为弗拉德早已消失。剩下的只不过是德古拉伯爵制造的假象，一个游戏，一个赌上生命的游戏。  
乔纳森只感觉自己全身冰冷，骨髓却在灼烧。最终，陷入了黑暗。

冰冷海水拍打在乔纳森的身子上，刺骨的寒冷让他打了个寒噤，他佝偻着背，扶着海岸边的石头颤颤巍巍地站起。  
四周一片漆黑，非常宁静，除了一些树叶的哗啦声什么也没有。海风吹在他湿哒哒的衣裤上，额发滴下的水模糊了乔纳森的视线。  
Where I am ?   
我在哪里？  
脚心被海滩上尖锐的石块和贝壳划出一道道血迹，乔纳森却只呆愣的往前走。离开这里，他想。  
他步伐蹒跚，不停地因为疼痛跌倒在地，又一次次爬起，继续前行。  
脚下从沙石变成裸露的泥土，变成松软的草地，乔纳森很疲惫，但他不敢停下。被杀死的新娘，被关在木盒中的不死人，还有德古拉伯爵•••一切一切迫使着他逃离。

*——*——*——*

太阳又升起了。炽热的阳光洒在乔纳森的身上，晒干了他湿漉漉的衬衣。在荒原中行走的几天，他消瘦的厉害，风吹鼓他空荡荡的衬衣，击打在他的脊背上。  
乔纳森很明确的知道自己并不正常，他大口的把空气吸进口腔挤压进肺，吃力地模拟着呼吸。他低着脑袋，身体曲的像一棵老树的枝干，阳光让他的皮肤刺痛，在太阳的照耀下他总是看不清东西。  
他站在山顶，向下俯瞰。一个小小的村庄映入他的眼眶。  
向前走，向前。  
阳光烤干了他的嘴唇皮，乔纳森继续连滚带爬的向前走去。村庄变得越来越近了，土黄色的墙壁，涌动的人流。  
他跌倒了，就磨蹭着地面向前怕，泪水从乔纳森的眼眶中落下，他无声的抽泣，最终重新沉入了黑暗。

*——*——*——*

“乔纳森，这么说可能有点奇怪，但是我还是想问，请问你和德古拉伯爵发生了性关系吗？“  
乔纳森呆呆地站在狭小的床前，被修女的一句话惊的转身。宽大的白色睡衣套在他的身上，空荡荡的。  
“你为什么这么问？“乔纳森小心地坐回木椅上，盯着那个语出惊人的修女阿加莎。  
“很明显你感染了一种病，这也是传播疾病了一种方式。“修女打开那叠放在桌上的乔纳森书写的记录。  
“我..我..没有，我没有。“乔纳森将自己的头埋在手里，”是的，是的，那发生了，我和德古拉。“乔纳森抬头，偏开自己的视线，不敢直视阿加莎。  
“所以我们可以谈一谈你写的内容吗？你被人送到修道院后醒来的第一件事就是像人讨取纸笔。“阿加莎修女将手搁在了那叠纸上。”里面隐去了一些内容，我更想要听您仔细的回忆叙述一下。”  
“那可以。“乔纳森很高兴她没有纠结于那个疾病的问题，但是他依然感觉十分的羞愧。他眼前的画面逐渐从现在翻转到过去，那是一个严寒的冬日， 雪花不断飘下，他套了一件厚厚的斗篷依然感到刺骨的寒冷···

*——*——*——*

“乔尼，我蓝眼睛的乔尼，我怎么会离开你呢。“穿着蓝白色修女服的米娜走近乔纳森，她的手落在乔纳森的脸上，他们贴得极近，乔纳森甚至可以听见 她的心跳声，他又重新认识到了自己已经畸形的身体。  
“米娜，你应该离开我。”乔纳森认真地看着米娜的眼睛，他难以想象自己的未婚妻竟然会亲口听到自己承认自己和德古拉的不正当的关系。他和米娜不应该在一起，他不值得这个勇敢坚贞的女子的垂青。  
“乔尼，你值得的••”开着的窗户中突然窜进一只蝙蝠扑在米娜的脸上，她头发披散，鲜血自脸颊流下。  
“他来了！！“乔纳森开始战栗，他背靠在墙壁上，眼神闪烁。  
窗外千百只蝙蝠正围绕着修道院打转，发出尖锐的叫声，天色已经黑下，黑暗就像一层黑色的薄暮笼住了修道院。  
阿加莎修女匆匆的离开了房间。

“米娜，杀死我。”乔纳森把沾着米娜脸颊上血的手指放进嘴中舔舐，身体本能让他对鲜血有极强的渴望，伸入口腔的手指让他感到难受，涎水自嘴边低下，他想要呕出来，却只能无助的吞咽着口水。“让我解脱，我乞求你。”泪水自乔纳森的眼睛无意识的滴下。  
“不，我做不到。”蓝衣女子却只是把乔纳森推开，逃出门，开始呼救。  
恐惧，她眼中的是恐惧，在他未婚妻眼中的是恐惧。他彻底的成为了一个怪物，没有人会尝试解救他，乔纳森闭上眼，米娜漂亮的金发似乎就在他眼前晃悠。再见，米娜。他捡起了放在地上的木刺，深深捅进了自己的心口。  
再见，弗拉德。  
我希望你真的存在。   
但愿死亡能给予我安宁。

“我的新娘。”德古拉赤裸的身体十分精壮，身上还沾着黑狼皮上的血污。  
“我猜你是为他而来的吧。”阿加莎修女出口道，她的眼中闪烁着痴迷和坚毅。  
“蜜蜂总是可以找到花蜜的。”  
“布置陷阱总是需要蜂蜜。“阿加莎修女站在铁门前说道，她胜券在握。  
“我可不觉得这是个陷阱。“  
“如果你都看出是陷阱了，也就不是高明的陷阱了。未获得邀请，吸血鬼不能进入任何的住所。你为何需要邀请？你活了几百年却连一座修道院都进不来吗？“阿加莎修女发问，她打开了修道院的大门，而德古拉却不敢踏入。  
德古拉畏惧着死亡。  
他闷哼一声，向上一跃，消失在了修女们的视线中。

修道院大多数的房间都没有准备火炉，房间里昏暗而冰冷。  
一具套着白色睡衣的尸体正躺在冰冷的地面上，他的双手紧握住一根木刺——已经深深的刺入了他的胸口。他面色惨白，身体直僵僵的，没有丝毫生机。  
“蓝眼睛的乔尼。自杀是没用的。你不觉得那些活死人也曾尝试过此方法吗？这方法是没错，但必须是别人来插才行“德古拉严整着衣冠攀附在修道院外墙上，”我愿意试试，你愿意让我这么做吗？ “  
德古拉的语气温和低沉，充满了蛊惑。解脱，这现在是一个难以得到的奢望。  
乔纳森的眼睛突然睁开，就像自己的身体被唤醒，他的灵魂都听从于德古拉。他身不由己，就像他以为自己记下了在德古拉伯爵庄园的故事，他的脑子在写的时候是如此的清晰。但阿加莎修女翻开，却只能看见被抄写了千百遍的‘必须遵守德古拉伯爵的要求’‘德古拉是我的主人’。  
他的灵魂被德古拉所禁锢，永世不得超生。  
“不。你会杀死所有的人的。“乔纳森说道，“这里是上帝的殿堂，没有人会给予你邀请，你今夜杀不死任何人，你威胁我不到我。”  
“哦，乔尼，你真是天真。总有最弱的那一个会邀请我进来。”德古拉笑道，“我不一定要进来才能杀死人。你还记得我们的‘孩子‘吗？”德古拉将一个布袋搁置在了窗户沿上。  
“妈妈。”孩子稚嫩的哭声从中传来，哭叫着乞求离开这个黑漆漆的地方，哭叫着寻找母亲。  
伊丽莎白。曾经被乔纳森重命名的那个孩子，但她不是那个伊丽莎白王妃，她成为了一个可以丢弃的棋子，一个用来要挟乔纳森的工具。  
“乔尼，你也不希望她掉下去把。这里是三楼，我想还是挺高的呢。”德古拉说道，他的一只手就搭在那个布袋子上。“我想你是个善良的人。”  
这是同一个袋子，同一个孩子，同一个筹码。这是他和德古拉羞耻关系的起源，那个屈辱的服务将他一步步推向悬崖。  
“不，我不行。”乔纳森挣扎着从地上站起，他里窗台很近，孩子的脸贴着袋子一侧，乔纳森甚至可以描摹出她的五官。“我乞求你，放过伊丽莎白。就当做对你死去的王妃的怜悯。”  
“乔尼，你永远不知道险恶的人们能做出什么。所以我拒绝。我本来并不打算杀死她们，可惜她们胆大妄为。”德古拉说道，他的手拿着布袋的手柄，逐渐抬高，放开。“你失去了你的机会，这真的很可惜。”  
乔纳森向前冲去，钻过那个狭小的窗口，探出自己的上半身，不够，这不够。他跳了下去。他快速的动作带起的风吹散了那些摊在桌上的稿纸，它们飘飘扬扬撒到了修道院亭中——‘德古拉的命令必须被遵从‘  
他的指尖触碰到了那个还散发着温暖的布袋，他把袋子紧紧的搂在怀中，这个古旧的修道院修的很高，他们会直接摔在修道院院内。乔纳森知道即使这样，伊丽莎白也会死去，这太高了。他打开了布袋，让这个哭泣的孩子握住了仍旧插在自己胸口的木刺。  
“那不会很疼的，很快就会结束的。”他对趴在自己怀中的伊丽莎白轻轻地说，她显然并不明白发生了什么，她窝在自己‘母亲‘的怀中，反而觉得失重的感觉很有趣。乔纳森的眼泪落到她的脸颊上。  
这会很快的。  
一点都不疼。  
乔纳森在心中祈祷。  
“不！”乔纳森不知道这是否是自己的呼声。  
他们落在了院中。毫发无损。伊丽莎白金色的头发蓬松的搭在她的肩上，背着乔纳森伸出手，“父亲？”乔纳森仰躺在修道院中，他经受了冲击，但这并没有他想象的疼痛。他的脊背贴着一具冰冷的身体，不，他正被环在其中，一手冰冷的手正死死的握住他的腰，另一只手上拿着那根沾满了乔纳森鲜血的木刺。  
他是如此明确的感到正贴着自己身体的人的恐惧，德古拉的恐惧，那急促的呼吸和颤抖的身体。  
德古拉进入了未被邀请之地。  
等待他的会是什么？死亡还是疼痛的折磨。德古拉知道这个传说的真假吗？吸血鬼必须接受邀请吗？  
他们静默着，乔纳森任由着德古拉环着他，任由那些他从未在德古拉身上感受到的因恐惧而产生的呼吸喷在自己的颈侧。那应该过了很久，当然，也许只是一会儿。在教堂中虔诚祈祷的修女们并没有观察到庭院中的突发事件。  
“我想，传说也许并不都正确。”德古拉俯到乔纳森耳侧，声音低沉却带着调笑的语调，“我认为在结婚前，新娘投怀送抱显然有些放荡。我以为你是基督徒。”  
乔纳森的心依然有一些恐慌，他把伊丽莎白抱在自己的胸前。“放过那些修女吧。”既然传说是假的，自然就阻止不了德古拉大开杀戒。  
“这不是一个平等的交易。”身后的人站起，转过身，俯看着乔纳森。  
“ 请别这样做。”乔纳森的双膝贴在冰冷的地面上，他的头贴在德古拉的膝盖处，手搭在德古拉的西裤上。他仰着头，乞求道：“我不会再离开的，我保证。我会做你最乖的新娘的，我可以做你要求的任何事。求你了，放过她们，放过米娜。”  
德古拉蹲下身，手指按在乔纳森的红唇上，“这不是一个条件，你只能听我的，乔尼。现在，我要去做一件事，如果你乖乖的呆在这里，我会很高兴的。你可以继续留着这个孩子。”  
伊丽莎白在乔纳森的怀中哭闹起来，乔纳森只能小心的哄着她，眼睁睁地看着德古拉进入了教堂。  
“传说并不一定准确，女士们。”隔得远远地，乔纳森听到德古拉进入教堂时说的话。

德古拉走进了教堂，他的内心依然充满着对死亡的恐惧，但传说被确证为伪让他在修道院中难得的感觉到了自在。他满意的看到修女在自己动手之前四处的逃窜，当然还包括那个阿加莎修女和米娜。他突然感觉到无趣，这些尖叫，这些只是卑微的生命，他并不那么渴望血液，适量的鲜血便可让他永生。  
他看向那个修道院院长，那个有些胖的修女：“不如我们做个交易？”

与此同时，阿加莎修女正和米娜在她的工作室里研究应对德古拉的方法。  
“那些圣餐面包怎么会将他阻拦住呢。这怎么行得通？”米娜发问，“到底是谁邀请了德古拉！”  
“我不知道。那些吸血鬼传说都毫无道理，但不知为何又被证明是真的。”阿加莎翻看着自己的笔记，“不被邀请，他就不能进入别人的家里，为什么不行。日光会将他烧死，为什么？他惧怕十字架，却又不是信徒。不知为何，这些事实都是一样的。有一样东西是德古拉最为惧怕的，要毁灭他，我们必须要找出来！”  
突然响起了敲门声。  
咚咚咚  
没有人开门。  
门被打开了。  
“因为我不需要邀请，传说都是虚假的，我不惧怕任何东西。”穿着一身黑色斗篷的德古拉走了进来，他不断向前，向前，踩上了圣餐面包。  
米娜深吸了一口气，什么都没有发生。  
“为了家庭的和睦，我并不打算杀死你。所以我希望你配合一点，米娜•穆雷小姐，那个小镜子在哪里？”德古拉说道。  
米娜手忙脚乱的在身上翻找，没有找到。她惊恐的看向德古拉。一双手伸向了德古拉，手心上放着一枚精巧的镜子，是阿加莎修女，镜子在她的身上。  
德古拉取走了镜子。  
他离开了。  
米娜•穆雷开始冲上去关上了木门，开始小声的抽泣。

“我们应该离开了。”一个黑色的身影接近了乔纳森，乔纳森仔细的大量着德古拉，观察着他身上是否沾了鲜血，他心知肚明，即使没有鲜血，也不意 味着没有人被杀死。教堂里先开始有着一阵喧闹，但现在已经沉入了死寂，乔纳森不敢去想最糟的情况。  
“我很喜欢这个镜子。”德古拉将自己攥在手心的一个小镜子递给了乔纳森，“我帮你把相片取下了。”  
乔纳森盯着德古拉，他的手不停的颤抖，他不敢接下那只小镜子——他在来特里希尼亚（德古拉庄园所在地）时曾在里面放了自己未婚妻米娜的相片，在他离开英国的时候。“你杀了米娜。”  
“从某种程度上是的，你不会再见到她了。”一个吻落在乔纳森的眼睛上，德古拉抱住了乔纳森，任由他弓着身子瘫软在自己的怀中哭泣。“但是我允许你见她最后一次。”  
德古拉拉着乔纳森转身，一个穿着蓝白相间的修女袍的女子正站在窗前，她在哭泣。她的身后站着阿加莎修女，还有那些乔纳森叫不出名字的曾照顾过他的修女。  
“没有更多了。”德古拉强硬的把那个小镜子塞进乔纳森的手心，“记得把我的相片放进去。”

天色渐渐变得明朗，红彤彤的太阳在地平线上震跃。  
“德古拉伯爵会杀死更多的人，他会去英国，我们应该寄一封信给苏格兰场。”米娜•穆雷望着他们离开的地方叹气道，“传说都是假的，没有什么可以让他惧怕，毁灭这个嗜血的魔鬼。”  
阿加莎修女走到了她的身边。  
“不，我已经发现了德古拉最致命的弱点，那不是传说。“阿加莎修女突然出声。  
“那是什么？“米娜问道。  
“也许是爱，也许是牵挂，我也说不清楚。但我想有一点是可以确信的，这已经让他从孤高的山崖跌落，他不再是嗜血的恶魔了。“阿加莎说道，耀眼的红光照射在了修道院的顶上。  
“我不认为他有爱，他迟早会被发现杀死。“  
“不，他有，那才是最可怕的地方，他跌落到凡间，就像每一个普通的人一样。他输了，一败涂地，他再也举不起随意杀戮无辜的人的镰刀。感谢上帝“阿加莎修女开始祈祷。。  
“假如上帝存在，他就压根不会让他进入修道院带走乔尼，而是应该给予他惩罚“  
“我想他已经得到了惩罚。这是上帝的安排，也是最大的讽刺。人们依靠爱，杀死那些让人们恐惧的东西“

英国 伦敦  
一座坐落在郊外的小庄园被布置的很温馨，二楼的小露台上摆放着几张桌椅，阳光正盛，温暖的洒在坐在露台上的男人身上，他有些消瘦，但精神却很好，正在熙和的阳光下翻动着书页。  
“嘿，弗拉德，花园里的佣人正看着呢。“他的身后突然出现一个身影，正是庄园的男主人。一个冰冷的脑袋突然搁在了他的肩上。  
“你真温暖，乔纳森。“庄园的男主人说道。  
曾经发生的相似的对话让乔纳森的身体一僵，搁在他身上的男人也很快的意识到了这一点。“我的错，我的新娘。“乔纳森向后回握，扣住了德古拉的手。  
“那么现在，你要陪我一起数太阳吗？我亲爱的王妃。“湿热的唇舌含住了乔纳森的耳垂，他忍不住向后一缩，整个人摔进了德古拉的怀里。  
“我不认为你只是想找我来数太阳。“乔纳森说道，阳光照在他漂亮的蓝眼睛上。  
“我也觉得很可惜，我们只有一个太阳。使得数太阳变得如此快速。在这之后，我们当然要做一些事来消磨这个下午。“  
阳光洒在他们的身上，如此温暖。  
如果一定要概述这个故事，那一定是一座失火的老房子和一个毫不畏惧待在火场中的纵火者的故事。熊熊燃烧的烈火就像太阳一样温暖。

*1 乞求（文章的名字） 文中的故事从乔纳森乞求德古拉留下孩子/乔纳森乞求德古拉放过他让他死去（后接跳崖段）/乔纳森乞求德古拉不要杀死伊丽莎白（修道院段）看上去乔纳森一直处在弱势，但实际上局势是在一点点扭转的，最终双方主动权交换。  
*2 德古拉对乔纳森称呼的改变（乔尼——乔纳森），我一直觉得乔尼虽然是作为一个昵称，但是电视剧的语气总是带有一种对’玩物’的戏弄的感觉。所以最后乔尼——乔纳森称呼转变，他们两个人在此段关系中的地位就变得平等。  
*3 数太阳算是之前提到的梗（？）

神父AU 番外  
warming：老夫老妻自己绿自己的情趣play，也可以试做神父AU单独短篇，3000字，一发完。  
老旧的小教堂里一片漆黑，乔纳森送走了最后一位前来告解的信徒，有些疲惫的坐在告解亭里。  
他是一个普通的牧师，才被教会调到这个小教堂里，至于原因，则是因为前几任牧师接连死去，甚至传出这里有魔鬼，杀死神父只是为了摧毁信徒们的信仰好摧毁教廷的流言。乔纳森并不是很信这个，自从周边的国家开始和土耳其开战后，这里一直战乱不断，死人在这里只是常事，何况是几个手无缚鸡之力的神父呢。  
但是这个传言却传的有板有眼，甚至跨越地区，作为人们谈论的趣事，作为沙龙的题材传到了某位大主教的耳中去，为了平息这些流言，他们就指派年轻的二十多岁的乔纳森•哈克前往特里希尼亚。原因无他，他年轻而又信仰坚定（至少看起来），而且作为被在教会里抚养长大的神父，他没有家族的倚靠，最适合被打发到这个偏远的山沟沟里了。  
人们被教廷的作为宽裕了内心，很快就会忘掉这个平凡的神父，转到新的趣事上去了。只留下乔纳森一人，呆在这个偏远的教区。  
“神父，我想要忏悔。”  
“说出你想要忏悔的事，上帝会保佑你的。”  
“每天，我只想啜饮我爱着人的鲜血，让他与我永不分离。”告解亭中传出的声音低沉阴郁，“这是一种疾病，我猜大概是，神会保佑我吗，神父？”  
太阳已经抖动着落下了地平线，寒冷开始沁入骨髓。“我相信他会庇护您的，先生。”乔纳森停顿了一下，说道。  
“你可以叫我德古拉，乔纳森教士。”  
“德古拉…先生，我想这类病症也许医生能帮上更大的忙。”乔纳森感觉到‘德古拉’这个词汇在他的舌尖转动，他似乎在哪里听到过这个词，“也许我可以向您推荐一位医生——福尔摩斯先生。”  
“我不认为人类可以治好我的病症。这是一种诅咒，也许来自上帝，也许来自魔鬼。”  
“德古拉先生？”乔纳森这侧的告解亭的门被打开了，扬起的灰尘洒在他的身上，湿热的唇舌贴在了他的脖颈，舔舐着他的动脉。  
“您应该听说过我的名字，德古拉..伯爵，杀死了在你之前的三名教士。”套着鲜红内衬披风男人把手探向乔纳森的胸前，解开了牧师袍的扣子，“你为什么穿着黑色的袍子，它代表着哀悼和悲伤，你为谁在悲伤，乔纳森？”  
德古拉的手伸入乔纳森的袍内，移过乔纳森的锁骨，向下围着乔纳森的乳尖打转，冰冷的手指让乔纳森冻的发颤，修剪圆滑的指甲划过他的乳头，让它充血肿胀。“请停下，先生。这里是神的居所。”他哀求道。  
“告诉我，乔纳森，教会指派你到这里的时候是否告知你特里希尼亚从未被圣光普照，十字军东征已经失败了。”乔纳森双手抵在德古拉伯爵的胸膛上，用力一推，身子前倾，试图摆脱伯爵的钳制。这是徒劳，他反而被德古拉伯爵顺利的抓住了手腕，抬高，自投罗网似得把自己的乳尖送进了施暴男人的唇舌。施暴者轻轻用牙摩挲着他的乳尖，唇齿的磕碰让乳头破皮溢出的鲜血被卷入男人的口中。  
“英国人的血液总是这样充满味道（favor）。”压在乔纳森身上的人点评道，冰冷的手贴着胸膛下滑，剥开了乔纳森黑色袍子，解开了他的衬衫，大力地捏着他腰际的白皙软肉。他身下的人没有穿衬裤。没有任何阻碍，继续向下，手指探入了穴口，不需要润滑，那里就热切的含住了德古拉的手指，又湿又热。  
“你没有你看起的那样圣洁。”德古拉一愣，“在我之前谁已经玩过你了？是多久之前，是那个刚刚离开的信徒吗？听说他和自己的妻子不和。还是在你布道之前？那个人是不是剥掉了你的裤子，把你操到直不起腰来，把精液都射了进来，而你淫荡的夹着他的精液站在教堂里为寥寥无几的信众布道。你说当他们知道的时候，会不会冲上来把你按在台上，操弄你这个婊子呢。”  
“不，这不是。”乔纳森带着哭腔解释道，在德古拉的手指擦过他体内的敏感点时发出了一声惊叫，”我不是荡妇。“德古拉又插入了两根手指，深深地插入。指尖碰到了一个冰冷的物事，德古拉用指尖够了够，握住了金属质感的一端，快速的抽出。  
“不，太快了。”一个被淫水捂热的镶嵌着白色小宝石的银质十字架被抽出，湿哒哒的。十字架被取出的那一刻，乔纳森哀求着射了。  
“你可真不是一个诚实的婊子，乔纳森。在我之前，谁操了你？”德古拉有些愠怒，他随手把那个滴着淫水的十字架挂在乔纳森的颈上，直接把自己的阴茎钉进了乔纳森的体内大力的抽插。“是谁？”  
乔纳森正背对着德古拉被压在狭小的告解亭里，他的一条腿被德古拉抬起，方便男人顺畅的进入，他的双手被德古拉钳制着，艰难的倚墙上喘息。德古拉的性器不断擦过他的敏感点，顶入，又抽出，他就像航行在暴风雨中的小帆船，在欲望之海中沉沉浮浮。“弗拉德•采佩拉，我的未婚夫。”他哭叫道。  
他的未婚夫即使在自己被调到这个远离英国的偏远教区也没有找借口取消他们的婚约，正相反，他的未婚夫像那些难得的好男人那样陪他一起来到特里希尼亚。他们就要结婚了。  
“哇喔，在婚前和未婚夫厮混可不是一个好婊子该做的，乔尼。”德古拉伯爵俯在乔纳森的耳边说道，“你说，假如他还发现了我在教堂里操你，会不会借口你婚前失贞取消你们的婚约呢？”德古拉没有停下自己的动作，他不断向上顶弄，而乔纳森因恐惧而挣扎造成的站立不稳向后倚靠的动作让他的阴茎进的更深了。“不要这么热情，乔纳森。”  
“不，不要这样，我乞求您。”乔纳森断断续续地说道，他害怕的夹紧了腿，发现施暴者的阴茎硬的更厉害了，泪水从他的眼眶上掉下。  
“嘘，放松，亲爱的。只要你答应让我隔三差五的操一操帮你解解痒就好，这不是你的原因，是你的身体太浪了。”德古拉把乔纳森翻过来，让他正面着自己。体位的变化让德古拉进的更深，乔纳森的两条腿都架在他的肩膀上，在重力的作用下向下滑，直直顶到了乔纳森的后穴深处，磨蹭着前列腺。  
“是的。轻一点。”乔纳森死死的扣住德古拉的肩膀，在德古拉恶意的顶弄下哭叫道。他只想停下，这都是他身体的缘故，不是他的原因，他想道。“操我，求您了。”  
德古拉把阴茎整根抽出，大力的顶入，把乔纳森分泌出的淫液都打成了白沫，最终狠狠的抽插了几十下，把精液尽数射进了乔纳森湿热的穴内。“感谢您，未来的采佩拉夫人。”他从乔纳森正在痉挛的肉穴中抽出，吻了吻他。  
他满意的看着自己身下的人坐在肮脏的地上，黑色的袍子已经被扯落在地，衬衫被撕开，乳头红肿，身上布满吻痕，大腿内侧被捏的一片青紫。这个被操的教士正瘫软在地，无力的张开自己腿，不断掉泪。  
施暴人离开了。  
乔纳森无力的在地上大口喘息，事情是怎么变成这样的，他明明什么也没有做错，为什么会这样？  
告解亭外突然传来了脚步声，“乔纳森，抱歉今天来的太晚了，我和隔壁庄园的葛尔登爵士谈论了庄园应该修葺的屋顶。”  
乔纳森抖着腿站起，慌乱的从地上捡起自己的黑色袍子穿上，他几乎站不住，恐惧的扣着自己领口的扣子。  
告解亭的门被打开了。  
“发生了什么？你这个淫荡的婊子。”弗拉德•采佩拉大公、年轻的伯爵看到自己未婚夫正颤颤巍巍地站在告解亭中，黑色的教士袍上沾着白色的精液，眼眶发红，脖颈上留着吻痕。他愤怒的扯开了乔纳森的袍子。  
脆弱的黑袍被撕开，扣子飞了出去，弗拉德•采佩拉大公清晰的看到了他的未婚夫的淫乱。精液正从乔纳森的腿间滴下，滴滴答答的落在地上。“我想我们的婚礼不需要进行了。”年轻的大公平静的说道。  
“不，请不要这样，弗拉德。”被操的全身发软的教士想要上前，却跌在年轻大公的怀中，”不要这样，我求您了。“教士献祭般的送上了唇舌。  
“你不配做我的妻子。”年轻的大公把他按在身下，直直的操了进去，“不过我还缺一个四处发情的情妇，你可以试着递上自己的申请函。”  
告解亭的门又一次关上了。

注*：德古拉伯爵的原型，弗拉德•采佩拉大公。这里设定弗拉德•采佩拉就是德古拉变成吸血鬼之前的身份。


End file.
